


WCKD Academy Class A

by astralpenguin



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Assassination, Assassination Attempt(s), Bodyguard, Bodyguard Romance, Botany Nerd Newt, Crushes, Deadly Game, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, M/M, POV Multiple, Painting, Party, Romeo and Juliet References, School Play, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, The Creation of a Groupchat, Theatre Nerd Brenda, Thomas and Newt Are Nerds In General, Unexpected Friendship, Violence Against Books, because apparently they needed to discuss and vote on it, i owe winston a formal apology, in between all the murder attempts that is, minor explosions, nobody asked for this au and yet here we are, some violence, the target's identity is really obvious, you already know it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2019-10-02 06:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 57,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17259212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralpenguin/pseuds/astralpenguin
Summary: WCKD Academy is an elite private school that usually costs thousands to attend. The only exception to this is a special program that doesn't run every year. 13 high school seniors get to attend the school for freeThe catch: 12 of them are assassins. The last is their target. The person who manages to kill the target names their prizeWhen Thomas arrives at WCKD to participate in this year's Class A, he decides that he doesn't want to see the target deadWhich means that he'll have to take on the role of their bodyguard instead





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> happy new year everyone !!
> 
> this fic is based off the anime/manga series Akuma no Riddle, which is a lot of fun !! if a bunch of lesbians being ridiculously unkillable sounds like fun to you, then i'd recommend it !! it's the exact opposite of the bury your gays trope lmao. but, just like with my last fic, you don't need any knowledge of it at all to be able to read and enjoy this !!
> 
> updates for this are going to be longer and slower than they were with my previous fic. also, i have a lot written for this already, but i want to do a lot of rewriting, so i can't guarantee when the next chapter will be. but it _will_ happen, i promise !!
> 
> i hope you enjoy : D

When Thomas finished his morning run, Janson was waiting outside the house for him.

The people in the neighbourhood were probably under the impression that Janson was his father. He wasn’t, but Thomas didn’t care that people thought that he was. Janson had looked after him since his mother died, and had provided him the training he’d need to one day follow in her footsteps.

He wasn’t what Thomas would call a _loving_ guardian, but he was competent, which was all that Thomas needed.

“Perfect timing,” he said as Thomas approached. “I just got off the phone with an old friend of mine, talking about a very exciting opportunity for you.”

“What is it?”

“Something best discussed inside. Come on.” He disappeared through the front door.

Thomas said nothing and followed. He pulled the door shut behind him, took off his shoes, and followed him into the kitchen.

“Now,” said Janson, “have you heard of the Class A program?”

“No, I haven’t.”

Janson huffed a short laugh and shook his head. “Sometimes I forget how young you were when your mother passed. You were what, 11?”

“I was 10.”

“Yes, if you’d been older you’d surely have heard of it. It’s rather infamous throughout the community.”

“Okay, but what _is_ it?”

“Class A is a special senior class at WCKD Academy. It doesn’t run every year, but there’s always a buzz when it does.”

Thomas barely suppressed a sigh. “Why? What’s so special about it?”

“Because all the students in that class are in fact young assassins. Or rather, all but one. The odd one out is their target, and the one who kills them is granted anything they desire.”

Thomas walked over to the fridge and opened it. “Sounds like a lot of hassle just to kill one kid,” he said as he looked inside.

“It is,” said Janson. He pushed the fridge door shut, with Thomas only just getting his fingers out of the way in time. “It’s also a great opportunity for you to finally get started in the world.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows and placed his hand on the fridge door handle, ready to open it again. “Are you saying I have a place in the class?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Thomas nodded. “Okay,” he said. “When does it start?”

  


Newt wasn’t surprised to be the first one to arrive.

The majority of the school’s ordinary students hadn’t arrived yet, either. The school was mostly empty.

Class A’s dorms were on the top floor of the high school dorm building, known as the Glade. There were seven bedrooms, and a common room, or lounge, at the end of the corridor. Newt wouldn’t be told which room he’d been assigned to until later, so for now he left his bags in the common room and went exploring.

He’d been told to make his way to Class A’s dedicated classroom, and that his teacher would meet him there.

The school grounds were massive, and fancy, and _empty._ If it weren’t for the fact that the sun was shining brightly, he’d be half convinced that he’d stepped into the perfect setting for a horror film.

Although, thinking about it, that wasn’t all that far from the truth.

It didn’t take him long to find the classroom.

Unlike everywhere else he’d passed or walked through, this room wasn’t actually empty.

“Hello there!” said the man. “You’re the first to get here. What’s your name?”

“Newt Ross.”

The man looked down at a piece of paper on the desk in front of him and ticked something off. “Well, seeing as you’re the only one here, you get free pick of the desks. I’m Vince, and I’ll be your teacher this year.”

“Vince? Not Mr Something?”

Vince laughed. “All the teachers at this school are addressed by their first names. The idea is that it makes us more approachable, which creates a healthier learning environment.”

Newt nodded. “Okay, then. Vince it is.” He crossed the room to the windows, looking out over the front of the school. More people were starting to arrive now. From this distance, he couldn’t tell who were supposed to be Class A students, and who were just regular WCKD people. Although, he supposed he wouldn’t be able to tell if he were down there among them all, either.

It wasn’t like assassins were known for wearing giant signs declaring themselves to be so. Blending in was kinda their thing.

“Are you looking forward to everyone else getting here?”

Newt smiled. “Yes,” he said. “I am. I really am. I just hope we can all be friends with each other.”

Vince laughed. “I’m sure you don’t need to worry about that. There’s only going to be 13 of you in this class, so you’ll probably all become as thick as thieves.”

Newt pressed his forehead against the glass. “Maybe,” he said. “But I’ll tell you one thing. I’m definitely going to graduate this year. No matter what happens.”

Newt could practically feel his teacher’s confusion. “That’s the plan, yes. Your whole class will graduate at the end of the year.”

Newt lifted his head up and turned around. “Yes! If we could all graduate together, as friends, that’s what I really want.”

  


When Thomas reached the classroom, there were already a handful of other people there. Two girls, two boys, and a man sitting at the front desk who he assumed was going to be their teacher.

The man gestured for him to come in. “Class A?”

Thomas nodded.

“Pick a seat, and could you tell me your name?”

He walked to the back of the classroom and sat at the desk in the middle of the last row. “Thomas Cooper.”

The man wrote something down on the sheet in front of him. “Thomas, welcome! I’m Vince, I’ll be your teacher this year. How about the rest of you introduce yourselves to Thomas?”

A girl with pale skin and dark hair turned around in her seat at the front and flashed a dazzling smile at him. “Hi! I’m Teresa. It’s nice to meet you.”

One of the boys, the one with hair buzzed short, sitting next to the wall, grunted. “Are we gonna have to do this every time someone arrives? This’ll be the third time I’ve introduced myself, and I’m already getting kinda sick of saying my own name.”

“I’m Newt,” said the other boy. This one was sitting in the middle of the front row, had fluffy blond hair, and a British accent which Thomas had not been prepared for. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”

The first boy rolled his eyes. “Whatever, it’s Gally.”

Thomas looked over at the last girl. She was sitting in the back corner, staring out of the window. Slowly, as she realised that everyone was waiting for her to speak, she turned her head to face the room. “Harriet,” she said, and turned back towards the window.

Vince clapped once. “Excellent! I can already tell that you’re all going to be great friends!”

Gally sighed. “He’s pissing me off, can I kill him?”

“No,” Teresa replied. “That would be rude.”

Vince just laughed. “Now, now, you must remember that there are some people who wouldn’t see the funny side of a comment like that.”

“Oh,” said Gally, “I wasn’t joking.”

“Yes you were,” said Teresa, an edge to her voice.

Newt turned in his chair to face Thomas. _‘Great start!’_ he mouthed, and rolled his eyes.

Harriet didn’t acknowledge that anything was happening around her.

Thomas sighed and put his head down on the desk.

Hopefully he could identify and take care of the target sooner rather than later, because he didn’t want to have to put up with these people any longer than he absolutely had to.

  


Once it became clear that nobody else was arriving any time soon, they were told to go get their rooms set up.

Somehow, Thomas ended up walking next to Teresa as they made their way to the Glade building.

“So,” he said to her, “do you know who the target is?”

She stopped walking and gaped at him. “That’s pretty reckless of you. If the target was _me,_ you’d have just caused a lot of problems.”

“Did you hear yourself talk to Gally earlier? Either you two aren’t the target, or the target is a killer too, which they aren’t supposed to be.”

She shrugged. “I suppose that’s fair. And to answer your question, I do have a good idea who the target is. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you.”

“Why not?”

She smiled. “Because once everyone’s arrived, and Class A formally starts, we’re all going to be told anyway. There’s no point worrying about it now.”

She started walking again, and Thomas had to jog to catch up. “Will you at least tell me if you think the target’s arrived yet or not?”

“No, and shut up,” she said as she pulled the door to the Glade open. “There are normal kids around here and they can’t know anything about it.”

Neither of them spoke again until they reached the top floor.

Newt came out of the common room holding a suitcase and with a backpack slung on his back. His gaze fell on Thomas and he broke into a huge grin.

“Thomas, hey!” He rushed forwards. “We’re roommates.”

He pointed to the door of room 1. Sure enough, a piece of paper had been taped to it saying that Thomas and Newt had been assigned to that one.

“Do you snore?” asked Thomas.

Newt laughed. “Not that I’m aware of.” He parked the suitcase outside the door of their room and dumped his backpack on the floor next to it. “Shall we go get your stuff then?”

Before Thomas could respond, Newt spun and walked back down the corridor towards the common room.

This boy’s overwhelming friendliness made Thomas think that of everyone he’d met so far, he was most likely to be the target. That, and he’d also ruled Teresa and Gally out, and he really didn’t think that it was Harriet.

It was just a hunch.

As Thomas started to catch up, he noticed that Newt’s gait didn’t look completely natural. It was almost as if he was trying to hide a limp.

Why would he do that? Was he trying not to show a sign of weakness? And where could that limp have come from in the first place?

Maybe Newt wasn’t the target after all.

Teresa spoke up as they stepped into the common room. “It’s not fair, I’d have loved to room with Newt.”

“Teresa,” said Thomas, “you’re a girl.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why should that mean I can’t sleep in the same room as Newt?”

“Because when these things are assigned, they assume that putting boys and girls in the same room will inevitably result in sex.” Newt shrugged. “Never mind that that’s complete bullshit, and that gay people exist.”

Teresa nodded in agreement. “It’s so dumb.”

Thomas picked up his bags. “Fascinating as this conversation is, I’d like to get these back to my room now.”

“You kinda started it,” said Teresa.

“I don’t care,” said Thomas, and walked out.

Teresa and Newt followed behind him, showing complete disregard to Thomas’ veiled request to change the subject.

“And what does it matter if sex does happen, anyway?” said Teresa. “It’s not like we’re children. We can make our own decisions.”

Newt hummed in agreement. “I’m pretty sure there aren’t any rules against girls going in boys’ rooms, or vice versa.”

“There aren’t, and people do it all the time.”

“How do you know that?”

Thomas dropped his things next to his room and turned to see Teresa smiling. “I’ve gone to this school for years. If you have any questions about this place, like its history, or where something is, or anything really, I’ll be happy to help.”

Thomas cleared his throat. When he was sure he had their attention, he said, “Maybe the single sex room thing is just because most people feel more comfortable that way?”

Newt let out a small laugh. “Yeah, it probably is, but it’s fun to complain about heteronormativity whenever there’s a chance.”

“You have a strange definition of fun.”

Newt shrugged.

Thomas sighed. “Sorry,” he said. “Normally I’d be right there with you, I’m just tired right now.”

“I completely get it,” said Newt. “You don’t need to apologise.”

“Well,” said Teresa, “I’d better get on with unpacking myself. Unless the two of you want any help?”

“That’s okay,” said Newt, “I think we’ll be fine.”

“Okay then! Bye Newt, Tom.”

Thomas didn’t realise he was going to speak until it had already happened. “Wait!”

Teresa reversed the movements she’d made to turn around. “What?”

Thomas swallowed. It had bothered him enough to call her back, so he might as well roll with it. “Don’t call me Tom.”

“Why not?” She tilted her head in confusion. “It suits you.”

“It’s overly familiar, and we aren’t friends.”

A hurt expression crossed her face, but Thomas wasn’t fooled. She’d paused before her features had taken on that form, and in that gap she’d looked calm, assessing. She’d made the conscious decision to appear upset at his words, which just served to tell him that he’d been right to say them.

And it hadn’t even been something that harsh. It was just a fact. They’d only just met, so they weren’t friends. That was indisputable.

Not that Thomas wanted to be friends with anyone in Class A anyway. Everybody here was either his target, or his rival in killing his target. Treating them like anything else would just be a distraction, and could end up undermining the whole mission.

“What does it matter what she calls you?”

Thomas looked behind Teresa, down the corridor at Gally. He walked up to the group and placed a hand on Teresa’s shoulder.

“Who cares if she’s your friend or not? It’s just a name.” He tightened his grip on her and steered her away. “Come on, there’s no point hanging around if he’s gonna be like that.”

When they were a good distance away, Newt turned back to face Thomas. “That _was_ kinda mean.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” said Thomas. “If she wanted to call me by a nickname, then she should’ve at least asked first. It’s just polite.”

Harriet walked past them without a word and disappeared into room 5.

“Maybe,” said Newt, “but you could’ve been nicer about it.”

“Why do you care how I talk to her?”

“Because don’t you think this year’ll be so much nicer if we’re all friends, rather than being at each other’s throats?”

This Newt boy was definitely the target. There was no way that a Class A assassin would’ve said something like that.

Possibly sensing that they weren’t going to agree on this, Newt changed the subject. “Have you ever slept in a dorm before?”

Thomas shook his head. “I went to a normal school before this.”

“Ever had any sleepovers?”

“You’d need friends for that.”

Newt laughed. “I’ve been homeschooled pretty much all my life, so I’ve never slept in a dorm either. I’m sure we’ll get along fine though.”

“I’m not looking for friends, either.”

Newt huffed and crossed his arms. “You’re in for a pretty miserable year, then, seeing as we’re stuck with each other. You could at least _try_ to get along with other people.”

Thomas paused, then let out a small laugh and picked a bag up. “We just dropped this subject, and here we are, back on it within seconds.”

Newt smiled. “Yeah, we’re good at this.”

“I just don’t see much point being everyone’s friend.” _It’s not like we’re gonna be here long._

Newt sighed, and mumbled, “I was hoping we could all be friends, but I guess not.” He grabbed his backpack and put it on.

Thomas couldn’t explain it, but he couldn’t stand seeing the disappointment on Newt’s face. “I could try!” he said. “At least,” he laughed, “I can try to be civil. No promises about friends, though.”

Newt beamed. “That’s great! It’s all I can ask for, really.”

Somebody cleared their throat.

Newt turned around, and Thomas looked at the corridor beyond him.

Two boys were standing there. Thomas didn’t recognise them, and they had their bags with them, so they must’ve just arrived.

The smaller one, who Thomas guessed had been the one to clear his throat, said, “Sorry, but you guys are kinda blocking the way.”

“Oh, sorry!” said Newt, and he stepped to the side so the boys could pass.

“Wait, are you British?” the other boy said with a grin.

“Yeah,” said Newt.

“Man, that’s so cool.” He held out a hand. “I’m Minho, and that’s Aris.”

Newt took his hand and shook it. “I’m Newt.”

Thomas waved awkwardly. See? He could be nice. “Thomas,” he said.

Minho laughed. “Great to meet you both.”

Aris rolled his eyes. “Are you really gonna stop and enthusiastically greet everyone?”

“You two seem to be friends already,” said Newt before Minho could respond. “Did you know each other before today?”

“No,” said both Minho and Aris in unison.

“We met on the way here,” Minho added.

“I got hopelessly lost at the train station,” said Aris, staring at the floor. “Minho stopped to help me, and it turned out we were headed to the same place.”

“Most people wouldn’t want to admit to getting lost like that,” said Thomas.

“Yeah, but it’s not surprising you got lost,” said Newt. “That station is a nightmare.”

“See? That’s what I said.” Minho turned towards Aris. “So you can stop feeling bad about it now.”

“I just want to dump my stuff in my room and pretend I don’t exist.”

“Well, you can do that if you want,” said Newt, nodding at the door across the hall. “It looks like you guys are in room 2.”

Aris turned to look at the paper pinned to the door. “What, we’re together?”

“Well would you look at that.” Minho lightly punched Aris’ shoulder. “You’re stuck with me for longer than you thought.”

Aris laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Minho shrugged. “It might be.”

Aris shook his head, a small smile on his face. “It isn’t.”

“We should probably also be getting our stuff inside,” Thomas said pointedly to Newt.

“Right, yes, of course.” Newt grabbed the handle of his suitcase. “See you guys later?”

Aris nodded and disappeared into his room.

Minho caught the door and held it open. “You shanks seem alright. Don’t be strangers, okay?”

“Ditto you,” said Newt.

Minho grinned, and went into his room.

Newt turned to Thomas. “Right,” he said. “Let’s get unpacked.”

The first thing that Thomas noticed when they stepped inside was how big the room was.

He’d been expecting there to be a couple of beds, a bathroom, and some cupboards for storage. And he wasn’t wrong about that. There _were_ two beds, a door that he could see a gleaming bathroom through, and a small cupboard by each bed for things to be put inside. But the beds were bigger than he’d been expecting them to be, bigger than his bed at home, and there were more cupboards and chests of drawers around the room than he’d thought there'd be. The room had a sofa, a television, and two desks. There was even a kitchen area, with a fridge, sink, and microwave. No oven or stove, though.

“Woah,” said Newt from behind him. Thomas stepped forwards to allow Newt into the room properly. “It’s like a hotel suite.”

“I suppose this _is_ a fancy private school,” said Thomas. “I can’t think what it must cost people to come here.”

Newt hummed in thought. “I can ask Teresa, she might know. But whatever it is, we’re really lucky to get to come here for free!”

Newt had been walking further into the room, so Thomas couldn’t see his face. He sounded so positive, though, that Thomas couldn’t tell whether it was fake or not.

Did he know why they were there? How much of his determination to befriend everyone was genuine? Was it just a survival tactic?

Thomas had no idea.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Newt flopped on the bed furthest from the door. “Oh,” he said, sitting back up, “sorry, I didn’t think to ask-”

“It’s okay,” said Thomas, placing his things next to the other bed. “You can have that one. I don’t really care.”

Newt grinned. “Nice,” he said, and laid back down again.

“You gonna unpack?”

“In a minute.”

Thomas shook his head and set about transferring his clothes from his suitcase to the chest of drawers nearest his bed.

He didn’t speak again until he was nearly done. “Can I ask you something?”

Newt lifted his head up. “Shoot.”

“You have a limp, right?”

Newt froze, then slowly laid his head back down on the mattress. “What about it?”

Thomas put the last t-shirt away and sat on his own bed. “What happened? How’d you get it?”

Newt stared at the ceiling as he said, “It was a long time ago.”

“But-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Thomas held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, you don’t have to. I won’t ask again.”

Newt turned his head to face him and smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

  


Gally looked down the corridor as the group of boys split off into their own rooms. “They all seem to be getting along.”

Teresa hummed in agreement. “That’s a good thing, though. If we all kill each other in our sleep, Class A can’t run properly.”

“Surely that can be better achieved if we have rooms to ourselves?”

Teresa shrugged. “Maybe, but rooms are shared all through the school. Though my old roommate gets a room to herself this year, because there aren’t any new people in our year, and I’m here instead.”

Gally turned to face the girl standing next to him. “You went here before?”

Teresa nodded. “Any questions, you can come to me.”

Gally raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? I’ve got a question. How can we be split into rooms of two if there are 13 of us?”

“Room 7 is a single.”

“Fuck that guy.”

Teresa laughed. “Yeah, he got lucky.”

Gally leant back against the room. “How were the rooms assigned, anyway? I get that it’s girls with girls and boys with boys, but beyond that, how?”

“I’m pretty sure the headmistress used a random number generator.” She smiled. “So no, the target did not receive any special treatment. They got put in a room just like the rest of us.”

“Are we allowed to change rooms?”

“If you can get someone to agree to switch with you, then sure, there aren’t any rules against it. But it’s probably more hassle than it’s worth.” She looked towards the sheet pinned to the door of room 3. “Besides,” she said, “you and this Ben guy’ll probably get along fine.” She let out a small laugh. “Or, at least, you’ll manage not to kill each other.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Hey, I have to share a room too! But I’m fairly good at getting along with people, so I’m sure that Brenda and I’ll manage okay. I’ll be even surer once I’ve actually met her.” Teresa checked her watch. “Well, I’m gonna go get unpacked now. See you later!”

With that, she grabbed the handle of her suitcase and wheeled it over to her room, room 6, and went inside.

Gally grabbed his own and marched to the door of room 3. He pushed the door open.

There was somebody in there already.

The boy looked up from the piles of clothes on the floor around him. “Hi!” he said, a wide smile on his face. “You must be Gally. I’m Ben. Looks like we’ll be rooming together this year.”

Gally stared at the clothes on the floor. “What are you doing?”

“I wanted to unpack and put my things away, but then I realised that I didn’t know which bed was mine, so didn’t know where to start putting everything in relation to that, so I just started getting everything out while I waited for you to get here.”

Gally blinked. “Why didn’t you just pick a bed?”

Ben shrugged. “Because you might’ve had a preference, and I didn’t want there to be an argument when you got here, or for you to be inconvenienced, or something.”

Gally sighed. “Your clothes are everywhere, I’d say I’m pretty inconvenienced right now.”

“That’s easily fixed though.”

“Just pick a bed, I don’t care which.”

“Okay!” Ben scooped up an armful of clothes and dumped them on top of a bed.

Gally placed his suitcase on top of the other one. “Let’s get something straight. In here, I’m the boss. I choose what’s on TV, I choose what we keep in the fridge, I choose when we turn the lights out at night, all of it.”

Ben nodded. “Got it.”

That wasn’t the response that Gally was expecting.

After a few seconds of silence, Ben looked up from where he’d been putting his things away and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re just gonna accept all of that?”

“All of what?”

“What I just said. Don’t you think it’s unreasonable to demand complete control of everything all the time?”

Ben smiled, and stood. “A little, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m not a picky eater, and I don’t need to use the fridge. I don’t care about the TV, and if you want the lights out earlier than me then I can always go somewhere else. The common room and school library are open all hours, and there’s probably a lot else to explore if I really want to. So if you want to have complete control of this room, that’s fine by me.”

Gally clicked his suitcase open. “You need to become less accommodating, or you’re gonna get eaten alive.”

Ben raised his eyebrows and sat on his bed. “Don’t mistake my being nice for me being weak. The last person who did that can’t walk anymore.”

The corners of Gally’s mouth curled into a smile. “Glad to hear it.”

  


Thomas listened to the sound of the shower running as he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

If he was right, and Newt was the target, then he’d gotten extremely lucky with the room situation. He had a clearer shot at him than anyone else did, seeing as they’d be sleeping in the same room every night.

He was practically guaranteed to win.

The question was, then, how he’d do it? If he was gonna kill Newt in his sleep, then he could probably use a pillow to smother him. It would be quick and clean. Then again, he’d gone to the effort to bring his knives with him, and it would almost be a shame not to use them. Maybe he could smother _and_ stab him, just to be sure?

Whatever, he wasn’t going to act until the target was confirmed, anyway. Teresa had said it would be soon, so he wouldn’t have to wait long. Hopefully he’d be done and able to go home within the week.

The shower stopped.

If Thomas was honest, it was a shame. Very simply, if Newt was the target, then he’d be dead soon. But so far that boy had been unflinchingly kind and friendly to everyone. Part of Thomas hated the thought that someone like that would be taken from the world. He couldn’t think of what Newt could possibly have done to deserve it.

There had to be a reason they were here. There was no way that something like Class A would’ve been set up to target a random kid without one.

The bathroom door opened and Newt stepped out. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and his wet hair flopped down into his eyes.

He smiled.

“Shower’s all yours if you want it,” he said.

Thomas swallowed.

Not only did Newt seem to be a genuinely nice person, but he was also really pretty.

He was unfairly pretty.

How the fuck was Thomas going to be able to bring himself to kill him?


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas became aware of something troubling in the morning.

He woke up before Newt, and wanted to quickly stick his head out the door to see whether anyone else had left their rooms yet. It was some time shortly after 7:30am, and had no idea if that was considered late or early by the collective group.

Breakfast was served from 8am-9am. His instinct was to be there first, but didn’t want to draw attention to himself by doing something notably different from everyone else.

It wasn’t until he’d pressed the door handle down halfway that he realised that neither he nor Newt had locked the door the night before.

_That_ was a rookie mistake. They were surrounded by assassins and killers, it should’ve been common sense to lock the fucking door. How had neither of them thought to do so?

Clearly they were both morons.

Then Thomas noticed something else.

It didn’t change the fact that they were morons, because if they weren’t then they’d have noticed it the night before, but their idiocy didn’t actually make any difference.

The door didn’t have a lock.

Even if they’d remembered that it was a good idea to lock their room, they wouldn’t have been able to.

Thomas relaxed his grip on the door handle, letting it click back fully closed.

He’d walked by rooms belonging to students in the main school when he arrived, and he was certain that they’d had locks on.

So why didn’t this one?

Was it just faulty?

It didn’t look like a lock had been removed or anything, and there weren’t any signs of damage. It looked like there’d never been a lock there in the first place. So the door wasn’t faulty.

Was he just being incredibly stupid?

If so, he would definitely never speak about this to anyone ever, because that would be extremely embarrassing.

He looked down at the handle again.

Nope, he wasn’t being stupid. There really wasn’t a lock.

He scanned the rest of the door, thinking that he might’ve missed a bolt somewhere, but no. There was nothing.

Was it a Class A thing?

He opened the door and looked across the hall at room 2.

Okay, it _was_ a Class A thing.

Room 2 didn’t have a lock either. A quick glance down the corridor told him that none of the rooms did.

That was annoying.

He closed the door again as he heard a small groan come from behind him.

“What’s the time?” Newt mumbled as he blearily blinked his eyes open.

Thomas crossed over to his bed and grabbed his phone off the top of the small cupboard next to it. “7:43,” he said.

Newt groaned again and rolled over. “I don’t wanna get up.”

“You’re gonna have to at some point.”

“I have 17 minutes before I have to, so I’m gonna use them.” With that, he pulled the covers over his head, signalling an end to the conversation.

Thomas just barely suppressed a laugh. Newt’s aversion to the morning was kinda adorable.

Which wasn’t a thought that was in any way conducive to the mission at hand.

Everything else aside, Thomas didn’t feel right not saying anything about the door situation. Whoever Newt was, he deserved to be aware about this. Thomas knew that if their positions were reversed, he’d have wanted Newt to bring it to his attention. It was only right that he tell him.

“Hey,” he said, “did you notice the rooms on this floor don’t lock?”

Newt froze. Then, he slowly poked his head back out. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

“None of the rooms on this floor lock. I just noticed it a few minutes ago.”

Newt stood so quickly it made Thomas jump. All trace of tiredness gone from his face and body, he walked to the door and checked out the handle for himself. He opened the door and stepped out, looking down the hall and at the outside of their room.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “They don’t lock.”

“Hey,” said Thomas, trying to inject some levity into his voice, “don’t you have any faith in me?”

Newt looked up and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course I do, I just had to see it for myself. It’s strange is all. I could’ve sworn the rooms on other floors locked just fine.”

“Same. I think it’s just our class with doors like this.”

Newt let out a large sigh and leant against the open door frame. “Sorry to be a pain, but I’d feel a lot better if we wedged something against the door at night.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “What if you need to make a quick getaway?”

It seemed that Thomas’ attempt at humour wasn’t appreciated. Newt smiled again, but it still looked fake. “I’ll just have to hope that I won’t need to.”

“Dude, you’re fine, I was kidding. Of course we can wedge something against the door. I was thinking much the same thing.”

Newt visibly relaxed. “Okay,” he said. “We should probably find something in here that’ll work.”

  


Aris was not a morning person.

Unfortunately for him, his new friend and roommate _was._

Aris discovered this when Minho threw the curtains open at half past 7 in the morning, talking loudly about how he’d slept in a lot later than he was used to.

Aris covered his eyes with his hands in a feeble attempt to keep the light out. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for the day, what does it look like?”

“You’re being too loud.”

Minho laughed. “Breakfast starts in half an hour, so there isn’t long before we need to be up and dressed. Normally I go for a run in the morning, but I don’t have time today.”

Gingerly, Aris moved one of his hands a small distance away from his face so he could peer out from under it. “It starts at 8, but lasts the whole hour. Does it take you an hour to eat? Does it take you half an hour to get ready? If not, then please be quieter.” He thought for a moment. “Actually,” he said, “even if so, please be quieter. Because I don’t need all that time, and I’d like to sleep some more.”

Minho responded by pulling the cover off Aris’ bed and dumping it on the floor.

Aris hissed and curled into a ball, vainly hoping that he could conserve some warmth that way.

He couldn’t.

He scowled up at Minho.

Minho laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry. I, uh, don’t know why I did that. I had an impulse and just sorta went with it. I won’t do it again.”

“You’d better not,” said Aris. He stretched his limbs out. “But since I’ve been so _rudely_ awakened, I might as well get up.” He slid off the mattress onto where the covers had been dropped on the floor.

Minho stepped out of the way. “You sure you’re not secretly a snake or something?”

“Very sure,” said Aris as he pushed himself to his feet. “It’s just too early.”

“I’ll try to be quieter in the mornings from now on, but no promises.”

Aris sighed. “So long as you try.”

Minho sat on his own bed. “Do you think more people will have arrived by now?”

Aris followed suit, and sat on the edge of his. “We were told to get here either yesterday or today, so probably. The whole class should be here by tonight.”

Minho nodded. “What do you think everyone will be like?”

Aris thought about it for a bit, before saying, “Does it matter? We all have the same goal, that’s what’s important.”

Minho shook his head, and shifted his gaze so he was looking out of the window, rather than Aris. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. We _don’t_ all have the same goal, and what each individual is like matters a lot to me.”

Aris didn’t have a response.

  


Newt and Thomas were both ready to go to breakfast by about 8am, so didn’t see any point hanging about. Newt pulled the door shut behind them as they stepped out into the corridor.

How he hadn’t noticed that there wasn’t a lock on it the night before was completely beyond him. He’d have thought that he would’ve picked up on something like that instantly, given the nature of Class A.

Apparently not.

Newt knew that he couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes like that. Sure, nothing bad had happened this time around, but that was probably all down to the fact that it had just been the first night. There was no guarantee that he’d get lucky again. Not once Class A had begun in earnest.

He had to be more careful.

He could probably start with watching where he was going.

He’d been so busy thinking about all of this that he didn’t notice the boy walking out of room 3, and ended up walking right into him.

“Fuck, sorry.”

“Shit, are you alright?”

The two boys paused, and laughed.

“That was my fault,” said Newt. “I was lost in thought, wasn’t looking.”

The boy shook his head. “I could’ve been paying more attention. If it was your fault, it’s mine too.” He shrugged. “Your head okay?”

Newt pressed a hand to where his head had collided with the other boy’s. “I’ll live. Yours?”

He smiled. “Same here.”

“You must be Ben,” said Thomas.

The boy narrowed his eyes. “How did you know that?”

“Your door says Ben and Gally, and we’ve already met Gally.”

Ben turned and looked at the paper on his door, before laughing, and turning back around. “So it does. In my defense, it’s early, and I just hit my head.”

“Hey, there’s no judgement here,” said Newt. “I’ve done at least two dumb things in the last 24 hours, so it’s cool.”

“Was one of them walking into me?”

“Yes it was.”

“Here,” said Ben, holding out an open cookie packet, “do you want one? I started eating them on the way here yesterday, and I can’t eat the whole thing by myself.”

Newt heard Thomas scoff behind him. “Amateur.”

“Okay, I probably could,” Ben conceded, “but I know I shouldn’t, so help me out please?”

Newt stared down at the packet, and made no move to take one.

He liked cookies, and if he were anywhere else he would’ve taken one without a second thought.

Ben seemed like a nice guy, and he was offering him free food.

It should’ve been an easy decision.

But they were at WCKD Academy, in Class A, and Ben was one of the assassins.

Seeming to notice his reluctance, Ben reached into the packet and got one out himself. He bit half of it off and ate it.

He then looked at Newt as if to say, _‘See? I’m eating one. They’re perfectly safe.’_

Reassured, Newt took a cookie.

Class A hadn’t formally started yet. Nobody was going to try and do anything to him until they’d been given the go ahead to do so. And even then, he’d have some warning. Sneak attacks like what he’d just been fearing simply weren’t going to happen.

He was being paranoid.

True, it was probably better to be paranoid than unprepared, but still. He wouldn’t be able to enjoy any of his time if he was permanently suspicious of everyone’s motives and actions.

And he was determined to make the most of this year.

“Thanks,” he said.

“No problem,” replied Ben. He turned to Thomas. “Would you like one?”

“No thanks,” said Thomas. He stepped forwards so he was standing to Newt’s side, rather than behind him. “Are you right handed?”

Ben startled, looked down at his hands, and scowled. “That’s none of your business,” he said, before turning sharply and going back into his room.

When the door clicked shut, Newt rounded on Thomas. “What the hell was that?”

Thomas shrugged. “He was holding the packet in his left and eating the cookie with his right, so he’s probably right handed. I was just asking to be sure.”

“Yeah, and it came across like you were sizing him up.” Newt sighed. “I don’t even care if you meant it like that or not, just don’t do something like that again. You’ll make enemies, and fast.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “What happened to the endlessly friendly boy from last night?”

“He doesn’t exist in the mornings.”

Thomas laughed. “Okay, that makes sense. I wasn’t trying to size him up. I’ll see if I can apologise later.”

Newt nodded. “Make sure you do. He seemed nice.”

“Hey Thomas! Newt!”

They looked towards the person who’d said their names.

Teresa had just stepped out of the stairwell and was headed towards them. She was wearing a pale blue dressing gown that looked so fluffy and soft that Newt had to suppress an urge to grab it. She had a small bottle in her hand.

“Did you go to breakfast already?” asked Newt.

“No,” she said, “my friend messaged me saying she’d arrived, so I was just saying hi to her. She was my roommate since we were like 12, so it’s gonna be weird not having her around all the time anymore.”

“That sucks. You’ll still get to see her though, right?”

Teresa nodded. “We won’t share classes, obviously, and I’m expected to be available at all hours for Class A stuff, but I’ll definitely be making time to talk to her.”

“That’s good,” said Newt.

“Why do you need to be available all the time?” asked Thomas.

Teresa smiled, but said nothing.

Once it became obvious that she wasn’t going to answer Thomas’ question, Newt said, “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“What, this?” Teresa held up the bottle. “The vending machines downstairs have all sorts of cool things. There’s one that’s just all different kinds of flavoured milk, and this is pineapple flavour.”

“Pineapple?” said Newt in disbelief. “Pineapple milk?”

“Uh huh,” said Teresa. “I know it sounds odd, but it’s actually really good. And when you consider that strawberry milk’s pretty common, it’s not really that weird at all.”

“I heard somewhere that you shouldn’t eat pineapple with milk because it’ll make you sick,” said Thomas.

Teresa rolled her eyes. “That’s a myth. Besides, this is pineapple _flavoured_ milk, so even if that _were_ true, I’d still be fine.”

“Okay, well, it doesn’t sound like something that I’d like to drink, but if you like it then enjoy,” said Newt. “We were just on our way to breakfast.”

Teresa nodded. “Of course, don’t let me stop you. The bacon’s really good here.”

Newt smiled. “Thanks, I’ll try it out.”

Teresa turned and went into her room.

  


Over the course of that morning, most of the rest of the class arrived.

A girl with short brown hair said she was called Brenda. A tall, tanned boy said his name was Winston. A serious looking boy said his name was Alby, and immediately asked about filling the class’ spot on the school council. A quick vote showed that nobody minded him taking it. A significantly friendlier looking boy introduced himself as Frypan.

Gally snorted. “What kind of a name is ‘Frypan’?”

Frypan shrugged. “The one I want to be called.”

“Yes, but I need the name on the register so I can mark you as arrived,” said Vince.

Frypan peered over his shoulder. “Well I’m not Sonya, so I must be the other one you’ve got there. But call me Frypan.”

Vince ticked his sheet at the correct name. “Gotcha. Frypan it is.”

As Frypan chose from the few remaining seats - ending up in the second row - Newt leaned to the side to talk to Teresa. “There’s so many people, is that everyone?”

“It’s nearly everyone,” she corrected. “Just one person left. But there aren’t actually that many people here. Class sizes at this school are smaller than at normal schools, but it’s still usually between 15 and 20. There’s only 13 of us.”

Newt let out a small laugh. “I haven’t gone to a proper school before this, so to me it feels like a lot.”

“Oh, how come?” she asked. “Were you sick or something?”

Newt elected to copy Teresa’s earlier behaviour, and just smiled without responding.

It was none of her business.

It seemed, however, that Teresa hadn’t been expecting him to answer her, anyway. After just half a second, she smiled, and sat back upright in her seat.

If she didn’t care about the answer, then why did she even ask?

  


Teresa looked around the classroom.

It was technically breaktime. Not that they were doing anything of any particular importance in class while waiting for everyone to arrive and get settled, anyway. An essay on how their summer was, how boring. Not to mention that the majority of the class would probably have to make a significant portion of it up.

Their teacher had already disappeared, which suited her needs just fine.

It was raining outside, meaning that most of the group weren’t in any particular hurry to leave.

In fact, if Teresa couldn’t see Harriet breathing, she’d be half convinced that somebody had turned her to stone or something. She’d spent almost the whole day so far staring out of the window.

Maybe she’d take more of an interest when gathering in the classroom actually had a purpose. She hadn’t gone to school for a while, so it would be fairly new to her.

Oh well. Whether Harriet paid attention in class or not didn’t matter in the slightest.

Eventually, Newt got up and left the classroom.

And it looked like everyone was just waiting for somebody else to be the first to do so. At least half of the people left started to stand, with intent to leave the room.

This was her only chance.

Teresa shot up and blocked the door, stopping Minho from going through it.

“Hey,” he said. “What’s the deal?”

Teresa smiled widely.

“I have a message from the governors and headmistress of WCKD Academy. Class A’s official orientation will be taking place tonight at midnight in room 250. You can find it at the top of the tower in the main building. For now, I can confirm that our target is indeed Newt, as I’m sure a few of you have suspected already.” She stood aside from the door. “Thank you,” she said, “that’ll be all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what did i plan to do over the christmas break? write
> 
> what did i not do over the christmas break? write
> 
> i'm getting the establishing chapters up bc they're done and i don't have any major issues with them but i was serious when i said that updates would be a lot slower for this fic
> 
> but don't worry, things will actually start happening in this very very soon ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i don't even have an excuse as to why this took so long lmao whoops and the only writing i've done in that time was _today_ and it wasn't even for this or for that other oneshot i'm supposed to be working on. BUT i've written 2000 words today and i want that thing to be done by monday for Reasons so hopefully i'll have learned something from this and will stop procrastinating all my time away. whew. hope the chapter was worth the wait XD

Thomas was confused.

To be fair, he understood a little. It was human nature to want to get along with your peers, if just to create a more painless experience for yourself. He’d ended up on good terms with nearly everyone at his old school without really trying, simply because of that instinct.

But he looked around at the rest of the class, and just didn’t get their behaviour.

Everyone was chatting, smiles on their faces, like they couldn’t wait to become best friends with each other.

Who were they trying to kid? They were opponents, there wasn’t going to be room for friendships. Chances were they wouldn’t be here long enough for it to matter, anyway.

With a sigh, he lowered his head onto the desk.

If everyone else was occupied becoming besties, then maybe he could get some sleep.

“Hey, Thomas.”

Or not.

“Yeah?” he said, sitting back up.

Brenda, who was sat at the desk in front of him, grinned. “I got your name right, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Awesome. I think I’ve got everyone’s then. How’re you feeling. Tired?”

Thomas shrugged.

Brenda raised an eyebrow. “You gonna actually talk to me, or what?”

“Don’t see the point.”

“To be polite, maybe? Oh well, at least you’re listening to me. It’s more than can be said for _some_ people.”

Thomas looked at her questioningly.

Brenda laughed and gestured to the side, where Harriet was sitting. Unlike everybody else, she wasn’t engaging anyone in conversation, instead just staring out of the window like always. “She completely blanked me when I tried to say hi. Talk about rude.”

“I don’t know,” said Thomas, a smile creeping onto his face without permission, “I think she might’ve the right idea.”

“Well,” said Brenda with a smirk, “that’s because you’re a dick.”

Thomas couldn’t help it, he laughed. “I wouldn’t call you a saint either.”

She shrugged. “I never claimed to be.”

“Neither did I!”

Brenda tilted her head to the side. “I guess we wouldn’t be here if we were, would we?”

Thomas swallowed. “No,” he said. “We wouldn’t.”

Brenda looked towards the front of the classroom, where Newt was chatting happily to Gally, before turning her head back towards Thomas. “I can’t help but wonder why? Why go to all this trouble? Surely there’s an easier way for whoever set all this up to go about it.”

Thomas shrugged. “Maybe, but here we are.”

“Do you have any ideas?”

“Why would I?”

“You’re his roommate. And you both arrived yesterday, right?” When Thomas nodded, she continued. “So you officially know him better than any of the rest of us. And there’s got to be a reason why this whole thing got set up, right?”

“I’d love to know,” Thomas sighed. “I really would. But I don’t. As far as I can tell, he’s just an ordinary person. Maybe a bit nicer than most, but there’s nothing all that special about him.”

She hummed in acknowledgement. “He’s cute though, right?”

“What are you really asking?”

Brenda gasped with mock-horror. “So suspicious! What did I do to earn that?”

“You’re a participant in Class A.”

She laughed. “Okay, true. But I wasn’t trying to sneakily get information about you, I was just chatting. And I think you’d have to be blind not to notice how cute he is.”

Thomas rested his head on his hand. Cursing himself for getting sucked into a conversation without noticing, he said, “Just make sure you don’t go falling in love with the mark.”

She grinned and flicked some hair out of her eyes. “That won’t be a problem. He’s cute, but not really my type.”

“Then what is?”

She shrugged. “Not skinny blond boys, that’s for sure. Also, he’s the mark. I’m not an idiot. It would be a very bad idea to develop any feelings for him deeper than an appreciation for his appearance.”

“Appreciation for who’s appearance?”

Brenda whipped her head around and Thomas sat up straight. Neither of them had seen or heard Newt approach, so his voice had taken them both by surprise.

“Uh, Minho’s?” said Brenda. Her voice took on a more certain tone as she said, “Don’t you think he’s hot?”

Newt turned, and Thomas followed his gaze towards Minho. He was currently showing Aris a video on his phone, which had completely captured both their attentions. Newt turned back to face Brenda. He smiled. “Objectively speaking, he’s probably the hottest guy in the class. You gonna go for it?”

Brenda shrugged. “Haven’t decided.”

“Well good luck if you do. I haven’t spoken to him much yet, but he seems really nice.” He turned more towards Thomas. “I was talking to Gally just now, and he said he has alcohol with him, and that we could have some this evening. I was wondering if we could use our room for it.”

Thomas picked up a pen and clicked it a few times. “Why are you asking me? It’s your room, your friend, and your life. You can do whatever you want.”

“It’s your room too. You have a right to decide what goes on in it.”

Thomas sighed and put the pen down. “Like I said, do whatever you want. I won’t be joining you though.”

“If you don’t want to drink, you don’t have to. I’ve got some cola you could have instead.”

“You know how I said that I’d try to be civil with everyone?”

Newt nodded.

“Gally doesn’t strike me as someone that I’m gonna be able to get along with easily, so the best way for me to achieve civility with him is to avoid him whenever possible.”

Newt crossed his arms. “I don’t get what your issue is with that guy.”

“He rubs me up the wrong way.”

“Is that it?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s enough. It’s not like he likes me, either.”

“You’ve barely known him a day!”

Thomas shrugged. “First impressions, man. They count for a lot.”

Newt shook his head. “Whatever,” he said, before turning around and walking back to the front of the classroom.

“I see what you mean.”

“Huh?” Thomas refocussed his attention on Brenda.

“About him being nicer than most people, I see what you mean. I might be all friendly and that, but, and no offense, but I’m not inviting anyone other my roommate into my room any time soon for any reason. And I’m not even the target.”

“Why would I be offended by that? I’m much the same.”

“Like he said, it’s your room too.”

Thomas shrugged. “I’ll go sit in the common room or something. Like _I_ said, he can do what he wants.”

 

Ben flopped onto his bed.

“Are you really sure you don’t want to wait until after the orientation?”

Gally scoffed as he grabbed a bottle out of the fridge. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because,” said Ben, not bothering to look at what Gally was doing, “at the orientation there’ll be information about how this is all gonna work. I’m nearly a hundred percent certain that it’ll be more complicated than them saying to just simply ‘have at it’, because otherwise it’d be complete chaos and Newt wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Gally scoffed. “If that kid was supposed to stand a chance, then 12 assassins wouldn't have been sicced on him.”

Ben pushed himself upright. “You say ‘kid’ like there isn’t a good chance he’s older than you.”

“If I was holding something soft I’d throw it at you right now.”

Ben laughed. “Good to know you care about my wellbeing.” Gally had his back to him, doing something at the counter in the kitchen area of their room. Ben tried to see what it was, but was forced to give up quickly. “What are you doing?”

“Dissolving a bunch of fast-acting sleeping pills in water, which I’m then gonna mix with the cider.”

“Sounds like a waste of cider to me. And a waste of sleeping pills.”

Gally turned and leant casually against the counter.

Ben swallowed, grateful that he’d already finished his sentence, meaning there wasn’t an opportunity to mess it up.

Gally showed no sign that he’d noticed. “Not to me it doesn’t. The target’s been confirmed, so why wait? The sooner I can be done with this, the sooner I can get my reward and go home.”

“I don’t know,” said Ben. “In my experience, rushing things never turns out well.”

Gally shrugged and turned back to his half complete concoction. “Neither does a late start.”

“Starting at the same time as everyone else isn’t starting late.”

“Maybe,” said Gally, “but Thomas has a massive advantage over the rest of us. If I can deal with Newt this evening, then that won’t matter anymore.”

Ben swung his legs off the bed and stood. “For the record, I think this is a bad idea and I don’t think you’re gonna succeed, but good luck anyway.”

Gally put what he was holding down and turned. “Where are you going?”

Ben paused with his hand halfway to the door. “For a walk. You know, to stretch my legs.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t go far.”

Gally sharply turned his head away so Ben couldn’t see his face. “Why would I be worried about you? You can take care of yourself.”

Ben just laughed. “See you later, Gal.”

With that, he left the room.

The corridor was empty.

Teresa had said something during break earlier about the vending machines being good. Ben figured he might as well go and investigate.

 

Not long after Ben had left the room, Gally was confident that his concoction was complete. If he’d gotten the quantities right, and he was sure that he had, then just a couple of mouthfuls would knock somebody of Newt’s size out quickly and painlessly.

Gally had had complete success with this method multiple times before. He knew that it wouldn’t fail.

Once Newt was unconscious, all that remained was the question of what to do with him? The choices were nearly limitless.

He could fill the bathtub and drown him.

He could stab him.

He could slit his throat.

He could throw him out of the window.

Gally dismissed all these ideas. Sure, some of them could be easily manipulated to look like a suicide, but this wasn’t a normal job. He didn’t need to worry about not leaving a trail back to himself. In fact, a bigger trail was actually better in this case, because then he could be sure to get the credit and therefore his reward.

But the _mess_ these methods would leave behind...

He just wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of that today.

So.

He could just suffocate him. That would do the job nicely. And it wouldn’t leave a mess, which was a massive bonus.

When Gally stepped out of his room, he half expected to see Ben standing there. Or maybe pacing up and down. To be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d expected or hoped to see. Whatever it was didn’t matter anyway, because Ben wasn’t there.

With a start, he realised that he was disappointed.

Which made no sense whatsoever.

He’d been talking to Ben just a few minutes ago, and however his attempt went he’d undoubtably be seeing Ben again that evening. They were roommates for fuck’s sake. So _why_ was he disappointed that he wasn’t seeing Ben right now?

He shook his head.

This wasn’t important right now.

Gally raised a fist to knock on the door of room 1, but didn’t get a chance to bring it down.

The door opened to reveal Thomas.

The boy’s face was carefully blank, and he said nothing. Once it became clear that he wasn’t going to move out of the way, Gally stepped to the side to allow him to pass. Thomas walked through the open doorway and turned towards the common room without a backwards glance.

It wasn’t what Gally would call polite behaviour, but he’d come across a lot worse in his life.

“Sorry about him,” said Newt from inside the room.

Gally stepped inside and kicked the door shut. He smiled. “Don’t be, he’s not your responsibility.”

“I tried to get him to stay but he wouldn’t listen.”

Gally suppressed a laugh as he put the bottle down on the counter. “That’s his loss, isn’t it? All the more for us.”

Newt relaxed slightly. “That’s true, yeah. All the more for us.”

Gally stepped back and looked at the cupboards in the kitchen area. “Do you know where the cups are in here? I assume it’s the same in all the rooms, but I haven’t had a proper look yet.”

Newt’s mouth curved up into a smile. “I don’t actually know. I haven’t looked either.”

Gally shrugged and opened a cupboard at random.

Nope, this one had plates and bowls. Not cups.

The next one he tried had what he was looking for. He grabbed two fairly large cups and pushed the cupboard door closed. He filled both cups with the cider and handed one to Newt.

Newt pulled the chair out from under one of the desks and sat. Gally mirrored him, sitting at the other desk.

“How are you finding it here then?” asked Gally.

“I’m liking it,” said Newt. “Our teacher’s really nice, and the people seem to all be pretty cool.”

Gally hummed in agreement. “Don’t you think it’s strange though? That we’ve just got one teacher for all our classes, and we don’t change classes at all for anything?”

Newt shrugged. “Class A is special, right? It doesn’t run every year, and it’s exclusive. Teresa said it’s something of a legend among the rest of the school. That’s probably why.”

“Can’t have us mixing with the lessers, can we?” joked Gally.

Newt laughed. “Seeing as we’re here for free and the rest of the school aren’t, I’d say it’s the other way around. But Teresa’s already gone and said hi to her friends in the main school, so it’s not a complete separation. We aren’t forbidden from interacting with any of them.”

Gally forced his face into a smile. “That must be it.”

Everybody else he’d tried this technique with had drunk the stupid thing by now. So why hadn’t Newt?

Carefully, Gally pretended to have a sip out of his own glass. He then put it down on the table next to him. “So what are you looking forward to most about this year?”

Newt snapped his eyes back to Gally’s face from where they’d been focused on the glass. “I have no idea,” he said, laughing a little. “I heard the gardens here are really nice, so I’d like to explore those.”

He took a sip.

Interesting, he’d waited until Gally had - supposedly - shown that it was safe to drink before doing so himself. Maybe he was smarter than Gally had given him credit for.

Not that it would make any difference.

“What about clubs?” asked Gally, eager to keep the conversation going until Newt passed out. “I heard Frypan say something about joining a cooking club, and Minho said he was gonna look at sports.”

Newt shrugged. “I’ll join a gardening club maybe? I haven’t really thought about it. What about you?” He drank some more.

“I’ll probably see if there’s a woodworking club. That’s something I enjoy doing in my spare time.”

Newt nodded. “I’d be surprised if this school doesn’t....” he trailed off. He blinked and sat up straight. “Have one,” he finished. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s got into me, I’m really tired all of a sudden.”

Gally smirked. There was no point hiding his true nature anymore. “Just let it happen.”

“What do you... mean...?”

“Sleep,” said Gally.

Newt did.

 

Thomas was looking at the bookshelf in the common room when he heard the door open behind him.

He turned to see who it was.

“Oh, Thomas,” said Ben. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Where else would I be?”

“Your room?” Ben stepped further in, letting the door swing shut behind him. “There’s a party going on in there, right?”

“Party’s a bit strong. There’s only two of them.” He turned back towards the bookshelf. “It’s none of my business, anyway.”

“So Newt and Gally are alone together?”

“Yeah, so?”

“I guess Gally’s won then.”

Thomas froze. “What?”

“Didn’t you realise? Gally’s taking action. He’s hoping to be at home by this time tomorrow with the job done.”

Thomas turned around to face Ben completely. “Say again?”

Ben sighed. “Are you being dumb on purpose? Or are you actually-”

Thomas didn’t stick around to hear the rest of that sentence.

He pushed past Ben, ignoring his shouts, and ran out of the common room, down the corridor, and burst into his room.

At first glance, it looked like the two boys were sat normally at the desks. Another look, however, told Thomas that Newt was slumped over, clearly not awake.

Gally made a displeased noise.

“You’re back early,” he said. “I was under the impression you wouldn’t be returning until much later. How rude of you to just burst in like this.”

Thomas walked across the room over to them. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting in early, what does it look like?”

“We haven’t had the orientation yet.”

“So people keep saying, so what?” Gally looked at Newt, then back at Thomas. “Are you gonna start something over this?”

Thomas reached Newt and quickly checked him over.

He was alive. His pulse was strong. He didn’t smell of blood or vomit, so it was unlikely that he’d been poisoned. Gally must’ve just put him to sleep somehow.

He picked Newt up.

Honestly, he was expecting Newt to be heavier than he was. But no, Thomas barely struggled to hold him. He carried Newt over to his bed and laid him down on top of it.

Without looking back at Gally, while gently brushing hair out of Newt’s face, Thomas said, “I’m not under orders to fight you.”

“You’re stopping me from killing my target. I’d say that gives us plenty reason to fight.”

“You really took what Teresa said at face value? Just wait for the orientation like everyone else.”

“I’ve heard of you, you know. We all have.” Gally chuckled. “But I bet you knew that already.” Thomas peered round to see that Gally was smirking, but didn’t make it obvious that he was looking. “Thomas _Cooper._ You’ve probably been trained with knives, just like _she_ was, haven’t you? Well, I like to use my bare hands, so why don’t you come over here and give it your best shot?”

 

Ben had followed Thomas out of the common room, but not all that quickly. He didn’t actually want to end up in the middle of that situation himself, after all. He was certain that a fight was going to break out. He couldn’t say whether it would be started by Gally or Thomas, but regardless, he didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

He simply wasn’t in the mood to get caught in the crossfire.

Which was how he ended up standing alone in the middle of the hall when Teresa appeared.

She stepped out onto the landing just as the door to room 1 had slammed shut, clutching a plastic bag in one hand.

She looked at Ben and grinned. “Hey,” she said, “what’cha doing just standing there?”

Ben looked towards the now-closed door. “The first kill might happen soon.”

Teresa looked confused. “The first kill? What are you talking about?”

“Newt, Thomas, and Gally are all in the same room right now.”

“Ah,” said Teresa, nodding in understanding, “I see what you mean.” She walked over to him. “Should we intervene?”

Ben shrugged. “They can make their own decisions.”

“Confident that Gally’ll win? Thomas is a _Cooper,_ after all, so I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Ben looked at her blankly. “My opinion doesn't matter. They need to sort it out amongst themselves.”

“But you wouldn’t be happy if Gally ended up dead, right?”

“I wouldn’t be happy if anyone in there ended up dead. I don’t know what else you’re trying to get at.”

That wasn’t technically a lie. If Gally or Thomas died, it would be a pointless waste of human life lost in a fight that would’ve been easily preventable if they’d just _tried_ to get along. If Newt died, then that was it. Game over. He’d have no chance of winning, of getting what he so desperately needed.

So it was a good thing that he didn’t think that anyone was going to get themselves killed today.

Injured? Quite possibly. But killed? Unlikely.

Teresa just shot him a wry, knowing smile, but thankfully dropped the subject. Instead, she held up the bag she was holding. “My friend Miyoko just gave me a shitton of chocolate. Want some?”

Ben grinned. “If there’s some going, then sure!”

They didn’t speak again until they were halfway through a bar of chocolate each.

“He’s dangerous, you know. Killed loads of people.” said Teresa.

“What, Gally?”

“No,” said Teresa, shaking her head. _“Newt.”_

“What do you mean?” asked Ben, puzzled.

“His parents, his siblings, and quite a few guardians over the years. If it weren’t for him, they’d all still be alive.”

Ben paused for a moment, thinking about what he’d just been told, and then said, “He really doesn’t seem like the type. I can believe that their deaths were connected to him in some way, but not that he killed them.” He looked at her through the corner of his eye. “There’s no point being metaphorical to try and start shit, you know. It shouldn’t make a difference anyway, even if it were true. Newt’s the target.”

Teresa tilted her head slightly, conceding his points. “You’re right, I was being metaphorical. He’s still dangerous to be close to, though. Even his _siblings_ are dead because of him.”

Ben broke off a piece of chocolate. “I’ll bear that in mind in case I ever decide to get super friendly with the person I’m supposed to kill.” He ate the broken off piece.

Teresa hummed in acknowledgement. “Hey,” she said after a few moments of silence, “you have a sibling, don’t you?”

Ben dropped the remains of his chocolate bar. He grabbed Teresa by the collar of her shirt and slammed her hard against the wall.

“I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but here’s an idea, stop going around poking your nose into things that are _none of your business!_ ”

“Got it.”

He pushed into the wall even harder. “If you bring that up again, to anyone, I _will_ kill you. Understand?”

“Perfectly.”

He stepped back and threw her to the floor.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” she said, pushing herself upright. “I was just trying to get to know you better.”

Ben didn’t respond. He just picked up his chocolate and stormed off to his own room.

When the door shut behind him, he breathed a deep sigh of relief.

He wasn’t surprised that Teresa knew about his brother. The fact that she’d delivered the message about their orientation, and that she’d gone to this school before Class A, meant that she was probably the school’s link into the class.

She probably knew everything about everyone.

But in this business, people who went digging into your personal life were not to be trusted. Their intentions were always, _always,_ bad.

And if something were to happen to Chuck he knew he’d never forgive himself.

 

_THUMP_

Both Gally and Thomas jumped at the loud noise that came from just outside the room. Once Gally was satisfied that nobody else was about to come barging in, he glanced over at Newt to check that he was still asleep.

He was, so Gally focused instead back on Thomas.

During Gally’s brief distraction, Thomas had grabbed the glasses off the desk, and was carrying them to the sink. Gally watched in disbelief as Thomas silently poured their contents down the drain.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an asshole?”

Thomas didn’t even acknowledge that he’d spoken. Instead, he placed the glasses in the sink, walked back over, and grabbed the bottle.

Gally smirked.

Did this idiot really think that ignoring the problem would make it go away?

He hadn’t done anything to make Gally leave. But he was acting like Gally wasn’t there. Gally noted with amusement that Thomas was spending more time with his back to him than not.

That was a stupid thing to do.

When Thomas had finished draining the bottle, he walked back towards the main part of the room, stopped by the foot of Newt’s bed.

Gally couldn’t see his face, and didn’t want to give him any opportunity to act.

So he pounced.

Quick as a flash, Gally wrapped an arm around Thomas’ neck and pulled it tight. He’d only planned on suffocating one person today, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t prepared to up it to two.

A trail leading to him was a good thing, after all.

After a few moments, it occurred to him that it was strange how Thomas wasn’t fighting back. Most people start struggling instantly. But, for some reason, Thomas hadn’t. He was definitely conscious, so that wasn’t it. Gally couldn’t think of a reason why Thomas would just let Gally kill him.

Suddenly, Gally felt a lurch.

Before he knew what was happening, Gally landed hard on the floor, a stern looking Thomas hovering over him, holding him down.

Fuck.

He’d been waiting for Gally to get distracted enough that he could easily strike back.

And it had worked.

_Fuck._

Gally didn’t see where he got it from, but within a second Thomas was holding a knife aloft.

Ready to plunge it downwards.

Gally tried to buck Thomas off him, but he was too strong. There was no way that he could escape.

He was going to die.

He’d promised his father this this would just be a quick job, and that he’d be home by the end of the week, and instead he was going to fucking die because he was a moron who’d underestimated the son of the infamous Mary Cooper, which was something he’d been specifically told _not to do._

...

He couldn’t help but notice how not-dead he was.

Just now realising that he’d closed his eyes, he opened them.

Thomas was still holding him down, and still had the knife ready to strike.

But something was wrong.

His eyes were wide, scared, and the knife was shaking.

 _Thomas_ was shaking.

And his grip has lessened considerably.

Gally pushed at him, and was met with little resistance. Thomas slid off easily. The knife dropped to the floor.

Gally laughed.

“Have you actually ever killed someone before? You haven’t, have you?” Gally grabbed the knife. “Wow that’s lame. Who would’ve thought that the Cooper of the class was nothing more than a Greenie? I bet I could kill you right now, and you wouldn’t even fight back.”

He looked again at the fear on Thomas’ face and felt a new wave of laughter threaten to spill out of him. He let the occasional giggle slip though as he said, “Don’t worry, I don’t think you’re actually worth it.”

He dropped the knife and stood. “Whatever man, he can live for now. I need some time to process this revelation before I can try again.”

He stopped at the door. “I won’t tell anyone, by the way. It’ll be _much_ funnier to watch you fail to live up to everyone’s expectations.” He looked back at Thomas, who still hadn’t moved, and grinned. “See you at orientation.”

With that, he left the room.

 

_“You’ll be okay, mum. We just need to put some pressure on it, or-”_

_“Thomas, stop. There are some things I need you to do.”_

_“No, I need-”_

_“Listen to me. The notebook by my bed. Inside the front cover, there’s a phone number. Call it. A man should answer you. Explain what happened, and he’ll come look after you, okay?”_

_“No, mum-”_

_“And Thomas. No matter what, please don’t be like me. You’re meant for so much more, for great things. You can be anything you want. But not if you’re like me. So I need you to promise that you’ll do what I say. Call the man, and don’t ever become like me. Promise me.”_

_“I- I promise.”_

_“Thank you Thomas. That makes me so happy to hear.”_

 

“Thomas?”

Thomas’ eyes shot open and he sat up quickly. Or, he sat up as far as he could, but his path was blocked by something and a sharp pain exploded in his head.

He brought his hand up to rub the pain away, and blinked, trying to focus on what he’d hit.

It was Newt. He was kneeling on the floor next to him, and their heads must’ve collided.

But he didn’t look like he was in any pain.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice full of concern. “I woke up, and you were asleep on the floor. You seemed distressed, though, so I wasn’t sure if I should wake you or not, but you made that decision on-”

“Who are you?” Thomas snapped, cutting him off.

Newt’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Should I call the nurse?”

“No, I know who you are, I don’t have amnesia or anything, but _who are you?_ ” Thomas sighed. “Our heads knocked together and you didn’t even flinch. You’re way too alert for someone who just woke up after being drugged. And you don’t even seem concerned about that, by the way. Most people would be freaking out, but you don’t seem to care. I’ve never met anybody who’s more determined to be friends with everyone else than you, and that includes everyone at my old school, which was a normal school. You’ve haven’t been to school with other people before. You have this limp that you refuse to talk about, and whatever, that’s fine, but when you add it to everything else it becomes really fucking suspicious. So, I’ll ask again, _who are you?_ ”

Newt rocked back on his heels and stood. “Why did you protect me?”

“He was going to kill you!”

Newt shrugged. “I know. Isn’t that why you’re all here?”

He held a hand down to Thomas. Stunned, Thomas took it, and let Newt help him to his feet.

“So,” said Newt, “I don’t understand why you helped me. Was it just a whim? Or was it part of a plan? Did you save me just so you could kill me yourself later?”

Thomas hadn’t been prepared for the possibility that the target would also know about the true nature of Class A. Which was an oversight, he realised that now. There was never anything that said that the target would’ve been kept in the dark about it.

When he didn’t get a response, Newt sighed. “Fine, don’t say anything.” He went to turn away. “Just know that I don’t plan on dying.”

“You’re up against 12 assassins!” Thomas blurted out. “You don’t have a chance!”

Newt looked back towards Thomas. “My family is very powerful. There are a lot of people who want me dead, and I’ve been targeted countless times since I was a baby. 12 in one year is a lot, but I’ve survived this long.”

“ _I’m_ targeting you. Your roommate is supposed to try and kill you at some point.”

Newt nodded. “I know. But a lot of people have died so that I can be alive today. My parents and younger siblings all died to save me.” A small smile crept onto his face. “So, you see? My life isn’t just my own. I owe it to all of them to survive. It’s the only way I can honour them.” His expression hardened. “I wasn’t born to die, Thomas. I was born to live. And nothing that anybody says or does is gonna change that.”

Thomas didn’t know what to say, or how to react.

His whole life? People have been trying to kill him his _whole life?_

And they killed his parents and siblings in an attempt to get at him?

Thomas had never had any siblings, so he couldn’t imagine what losing them must be like. And that was before considering how he must feel, knowing that their deaths were at least partly down to him. Thomas had only ever lost one parent - having never known the other - and that was bad enough.

And now Newt was here, in Class A, probably because of his family being so powerful.

It had made him a target.

But this boy was still kind. Even despite knowing that the rest of the class were here to kill him, he tried to befriend them. It was probably at least partly a survival tactic, but it seemed so genuine that Thomas couldn’t help but believe it to be so.

He’d suffered so much.

But he still smiled when thinking about his family. He still tried hard to make everyone else happy and comfortable. He still cared about those around him.

Thomas had known him a day and a half, and all of this was obvious.

Newt was right. He didn’t deserve what was happening to him. Somebody so full of light couldn’t have been born to die, not while they were so young.

He deserved to live.

Newt crossed his arms. “There. I’ve told you my side of the story. So now it’s your turn. Why did you protect me?”

Thomas didn’t realise he was speaking until the words were halfway out.

“It’s because I’ve decided to switch to your side.”

Newt dropped his arms and his mouth fell open in shock. Thomas, just as surprised that he’d said that out loud, used the time that Newt needed to process in order to think harder about it.

He didn’t need or want anything, so the reward would be useless to him.

Keeping Newt safe would mean that there was no way that somebody like Gally could succeed.

And Newt...

Thomas didn’t think that it would be going too far to describe Newt as being like an angel. Both inside and out. Thomas knew that he had no desire to let the world lose someone so good, and so beautiful.

Resolve hardening, he fixed his gaze on Newt’s questioning look, and nodded.

He would do everything in his power to keep this boy safe from harm.

Newt remained silent.

He just stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around Thomas, hugging him tight.

“Thank you,” he whispered into Thomas’ neck.

Thomas gently returned the hug.

 

Teresa didn’t arrive at room 250 until a few minutes past midnight, to make sure that any stragglers had had plenty of time to arrive. As she entered the room, she was glad to see that everyone who was supposed to be there, was.

Even the late arrival who had failed to show her face in class earlier had made it.

Teresa put the stack of envelopes she was holding down on the table and addressed the room.

“Hello Class A, and welcome to your official orientation. As you should know by now, the aim of this program is to be the first to kill the target. This year, that’s Newt, the only person not currently in this room.” She smiled. “Of course, there are some rules that you have to follow in order to be eligible for the reward, and failure to comply with them will result in immediate expulsion from the school.

“Rule 1 is that people from outside of Class A cannot in any way be involved with or affected by your assassination attempts, and they cannot be allowed to know the true nature of the class. It doesn’t matter if their involvement is an accident or if it’s intentional, you _will_ get kicked out for it.” She saw Gally half-heartedly put his hand up. “Yes Gally?”

“Does our teacher count as part of the class?”

Teresa smiled. “No, he does not. As far as Vince is aware, Class A is a special scholarship class, but nothing particularly out of the ordinary. And that’s how it’s going to stay.”

Aris stuck up his hand. “Can other Class A members be involved in attempts?”

Teresa nodded. “That’s allowed, yes. Any more questions on this point?”

No response.

“Okay then. Rule 2 concerns these.” Teresa picked up the envelopes and handed the stack to Alby, who was sitting closest to her. “Take one of these and pass them along. You should all get one each, and there should be one spare to be handed back to me.”

Once she had the last one back in her hand, she continued. “Inside of these are your advance notices. It’s basically just a piece of card with the school logo in the middle, so there’s no need to get it out and gawk at it. When you’re ready to try and take out the target, you must get your notice to him first. From the moment he receives your notice, you’ll have 48 hours to carry out your attempt. If he dies, congratulations, you’ve won. If he’s still alive when time is up, then you’ve failed, and will be immediately expelled from WCKD Academy. Any attempts on Newt’s life without an advance notice will be treated as if it were between normal students, and punishments will be dealt out accordingly, and if he dies you won’t be getting the reward. So don’t forget! No attempts without giving him the notice first.”

Teresa saw Ben murmur something in Gally’s ear, who scowled in response.

Brenda stuck her hand up. “If we know that somebody else has put their notice in, do we have to wait for their time to be up to put in our own?”

Teresa laughed, and shook her head. “Absolutely not. You’re allowed to overlap with other people, so go ahead and be selfish! That’s how it works in the real world, after all. You’ve gotta go after what you want, or you risk losing it. Any more questions?”

“Do we have to write our names on these?”

Teresa looked over at who’d spoken, Winston, and shrugged. “You can, but you don’t have to. Do what you like. Now, rule 3. All attempts to kill the target must take place on school grounds. That should be simple to follow.”

“What if we give in our notice, and he goes and bunks school for two days?” asked Frypan.

Teresa tilted her head, pretending to think about it. “Then you’re just gonna have to figure out a way to get him back on-site, aren’t you? And finally, rule 4. Notices may only be given out, and only come into effect, during term time. So if Newt survives until the beginning of the Christmas break, then he gets to enjoy that break without anybody trying to kill him. Same goes for spring. Got it?”

A few people nodded, and nobody said anything to the contrary.

Teresa smiled. “Good. Now, before you attack, make sure to see me about arranging what your reward will be. That’s not urgent, by the way. Come talk to me whenever you feel like it. So,” she said, “comments? Questions?”

“Yes, actually,” said a voice at the back.

People turned around to see Thomas folding his notice and putting it in his back pocket. “Thanks for the thing,” he said, “but I probably won’t be needing it. Anybody who wants to kill Newt’s gonna have to go through me, first.”

“Oh?” said Teresa. “Are you saying that you’re planning on protecting him, rather than killing him?”

Thomas nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Got a problem with that?”

She shook her head. “Nope. That’s not a problem at all.” She surveyed the group. “Has anybody else got any declarations for the group?”

Nobody said a word.

She clapped sharply once, and pretended not to notice that it had made Aris jump. “That’ll be all then. Your official Class A orientation is complete. Make sure you get some sleep tonight, because I expect to see you all wide awake in class tomorrow morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't proofread chapter this as closely as i usually do so pls tell me if there are any errors : D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so my excuse for the delay is that while last semester me being social was mostly performative, this semester so far it's bc i've actually made friends i want to hang out with !!! this fic is NOT abandoned and will not be, i just might need the occasional prod to remember that it exists lmao

Newt was the only person in the whole class who wasn’t tired the next morning.

He wasn’t surprised about that. They’d all had to stay up late, after all. And there was a world of difference between staying up late out of your own free will, and staying up late because you have to go somewhere and pay attention to what you’re being told.

He’d gotten considerably more sleep than anybody else.

Though not all of that sleep had been  _ natural. _

Thanks, Gally.

Anyway.

They were supposed to actually start being taught things today. Newt was looking forward to it. This wasn’t something that he’d experienced for a very long time, and was eager to get started.

Despite his excitement, he didn’t get to the classroom first.

Vince wasn’t there yet, but Brenda and Harriet were. Harriet was, for once, not staring out of the window. She was instead rummaging around inside her bag. Brenda, who already had her things out on her desk, waved at Newt when she saw him.

“Hey,” she said, “you looking forward to today?”

Newt nodded. “Yeah. You?”

“Ugh,” she said, slumping in her seat, “I just wanna go back to bed.”

Newt laughed. “That seems to be the general mood, I’ve noticed.”

More people started arriving and going to their seats, so Newt didn’t try and continue the conversation. Instead, he tried to see if he could remember everybody’s names.

Alby, Minho, Frypan, Thomas (no way was he going to forget  _ that  _ one), Aris, Winston, Gally (or that one), Ben, Teresa, and....

This last girl had definitely not been in class the day before.

Newt recognised her anyway.

Or, at least, he thought he did.

But that wasn’t possible.

The mystery girl had sat herself in the last available desk, in the back corner, so Newt couldn’t have stared at her even if he’d wanted to.

Which he didn’t.

He could feel her sitting back there.

No, he was being ridiculous. Lizzy was dead. Had been for years. There was no way this girl could be her. It just wasn’t possible. They looked alike, but that was it. And wasn’t there a study once that said that people usually had as many as seven doppelgangers in the world? People who had no relation to them, but who looked practically identical?

That’s what this girl was. A doppelganger.

Not his dead sister.

“Hello!” said Vince. “I see that the last member of the class has arrived. Would you like to introduce yourself to everyone?”

Newt turned with everyone else to look as the girl spoke with a smile. “My name’s Sonya. It’s very nice to meet you all.”

Newt turned back towards the front.

He clamped down on the disappointment coiling in his gut. He’d already known that it wasn’t Lizzy, so there was no reason for him to be getting upset about it.

Her slight accent was just a coincidence as well.

And besides, if that  _ were  _ her, would Class A really be where he wanted to meet her again?

No. It wouldn’t.

Breathing deeply to calm himself, Newt grabbed some paper and his pencil case out of his bag. Hopefully, focusing on whatever Vince decided to start with would help take his mind off it.

He unzipped the pencil case.

Stuffed inside was a square piece of card, completely unmarked except for the WCKD Academy logo in the exact centre.

Newt stiffened, his blood turning to ice.

He knew what this was.

Trying his hardest not to make it obvious, he looked at the people sitting on either side of him. Neither Teresa nor Aris seemed to have noticed that anything had happened.

But that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

If it was inside his pencil case, then it must’ve been put there when he wasn’t paying attention to his bag.

So probably during breakfast, then. He’d left his bag in his room, and the doors didn’t bloody lock.

His bag was definitely going everywhere with him from now on.

He tried hard to remember who wasn’t in the canteen at the same time as him, but couldn’t. There’d been lots of people going in and out. Not just Class A, but all of the high school students. The only person he could be sure hadn’t had free access to Newt’s bag at that time was Thomas, because they’d gone down there together.

But that didn’t clear him of suspicion. If it wasn’t put in during breakfast, then Thomas had had more opportunity to do it than anyone else. All he’d have needed to do was wait for Newt to fall asleep.

Thomas had promised that he’d keep Newt safe. And he’d seemed genuine enough. He’d said it shortly after saving Newt’s life, and Newt wasn’t sure it was even possible to fake the emotions that he’d seen playing out on Thomas’ face. Thomas didn’t strike him as being all that great of an actor.

But there was a chance that he was wrong. Or that Thomas had changed his mind about protecting him. Newt wouldn’t blame him if that was the case. It was completely possible that Thomas’ promise, and the feelings behind it, had paled next to the thought of having to fight 11 trained assassins in order to keep it. Or maybe he was under strict orders from above. Newt had no way of knowing, but he knew that if Thomas didn’t protect him, or if the notice had actually come from Thomas, then he wouldn’t be any more upset about it than he was about being here in the first place.

All this meant that Newt couldn’t tell him about the notice. He just couldn’t trust him with the knowledge.

He would have to survive this one on his own.

  
  


Winston stared at the vending machine.

The corridor had been very busy at the beginning of break, but had gradually emptied out to nobody as everyone else has been eager to go outside and enjoy the sunshine. So Winston was alone, and wasn’t holding anybody up by his indecisiveness.

“You gave in your notice?”

Winston nearly jumped out of his skin.

He turned to see Teresa, holding a pen poised to write in a notebook.

“How did you do that?”

She smiled innocently. “Do what?”

“Sneak up on me!”

She shook her head. “I didn’t, you just weren’t paying attention.”

“I was paying more than enough attention, this corridor was empty.”

She shrugged. “And then it wasn’t again. It’s not my fault you weren’t aware of your surroundings. The raspberry lemonade is good by the way.”

Winston glanced back at the vending machine. “Is there anything pineapple flavoured?”

Teresa’s eyes lit up, her arms dropping to her sides. “Yes! Any of the machines selling milk has pineapple milk, and it’s really good! If you just want pineapple juice though, it’s the middle left.”

“Thanks,” said Winston, making his selection. “I’ll have to try the milk sometime.”

“You should, I think you’ll like it.”

Winston took a sip out of the bottle of juice, and said, “How did you know that I’d given in my notice already?”

She smiled. “I know all. Don’t question it.”

Winston sighed. “Fine,” he said.

She brought the notebook back up in front of her. “What would you like your reward to be, should you succeed?”

Winston felt a smile creep onto his face. “I want serial killer insurance.”

Teresa frowned. “Excuse me?”

Winston drank some more of the juice. “To tell you the truth, part of the reason why I agreed to join Class A at all is because there’s a detective who’s onto me. This is a pretty good place to hide and lie low for a while.”

“So....” she drew out the word, frown deepening, “you want us to get rid of this detective for you?”

Winston laughed, shaking his head. “Not  _ just  _ that. I want complete insurance that I’ll never get caught, no matter what. That even if I leave a horrible mess behind me, and lots of evidence, I’ll never get arrested for it. That I’ll be free to carry on for the rest of my life.”

Teresa’s expression cleared as understanding dawned. “I get it! So, get the detective, a personal clean-up crew, and pressure on police to leave you alone. Reckon that’ll cover it?”

Winston grinned, and nodded. “Yes,” he said, “that’ll do nicely.”

  
  


Minho and Aris found a spot in the shade, outside under a tree. They sat there and watched countless kids of all ages wander around. Various groups came together, all very noisily, as people let their excitement at seeing all their friends again show.

None of the ordinary WCKD Academy students seemed to want the space by the tree. Minho was glad. He really wasn’t in the mood to be chased away from such a nice spot.

He lay back on the grass, and heard Aris doing the same next to him.

“Must be nice,” he said absently.

“Huh?” came the response.

Minho threw his arm up, gesturing to the people around. “All of them. Their families are rich, they probably want for nothing, they have no idea about anything to do with Class A, they can do whatever they want. It must be nice.”

“Oh,” said Aris. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

A pair of feet came into Minho’s vision and stopped by his head.

“What are you two doing?”

He peered up to see Brenda looking down at them.

“Chillin’,” he said. “Wanna join?”

She sat down next to him. “Did you see?” she said. “Somebody’s given in their notice already.”

Minho sat up immediately and twisted to face her. “Are you sure?”

“Yup,” she said. “Newt got it in class this morning.”

“Who gave it to him?”

Aris sat up, a lot calmer than Minho had. “Winston was looking pretty full of himself earlier. I’d guess it was probably him.”

Minho breathed in deeply, and whistled out. “He sure acts fast.”

“We might all get to go home soon,” said Brenda with a smile. “So even if he wins, it’s not all bad for us.”

“You say that like you don’t want to be here,” said Minho.

Brenda shrugged. “I don’t  _ mind  _ being here, but I got volunteered, so it’s not like I was vying for a place. And I don’t plan on rushing into anything like Winston has.” She stretched her arms out behind her.

“Say we can’t go home yet,” said Minho, “What are you guys planning to do?”

Brenda raised her eyebrows. “Why would I tell you that?”

Aris gave a small smile. “I’m just watching and waiting for now.”

Minho nodded. “That makes sense.”

Brenda sighed. “Are  _ you _ gonna share?”

Minho smiled. “I’m not targeting Newt.”

Aris’ mouth dropped open.

“You’re not pulling a Thomas, are you?” said Brenda.

“No, not that,” said Minho, laughing a little. “I didn’t come here with the intention of killing the target. I don’t want the reward. I know for a fact that The Partner is in Class A, and that’s who I’m here for.”

Aris looked away while Brenda huffed and crossed her arms.

“So, what? You’re just gonna let this opportunity go by?”

Minho shrugged. “I don’t gain anything by killing the guy. Not much of an opportunity, to be honest. I came here to find and kill The Partner, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“I’ll help!”

Minho turned to face Aris. “What?”

“I’ll help you find them.” He smiled weakly. “You don’t seem like the type who’d wanna kill someone without good reason, so this Partner must’ve done something bad. And besides, it’s better for the rest of us if less people are going after Newt. It’s less competition. If you can take out someone else, that’s even better.”

Brenda sighed loudly, and dropped her arms to her sides. “If I find out who they are, I’ll tell you,” she said. “But I don’t want to get any more involved than that.”

Minho looked between the two of them and couldn’t fight the smile breaking out on his face. “Thank you,” he said. “That really means a lot.”

  
  


Thomas couldn’t focus.

He wanted to, and was trying really hard, but it just wasn’t possible. Not with the constant whispering happening around him.

Vince was droning on and on and the front of the class, seemingly unaware that nobody except maybe Alby was paying attention to his lecture on the civil war.

Ben was chatting to Gally, a wide smile on his face. Thomas was surprised to see that Gally seemed to be happy about that. Considering how Gally had wanted to kill Vince on the first day (Thomas wasn’t sure how much of a joke his comment had truly been), seeing him responding so well to someone was a bit of a shock.

Brenda, Frypan, Aris, and Minho were trying to have a group conversation. It wasn’t working very well, as they weren’t sitting close enough to each other that they could be heard while still being quiet enough that Vince wouldn’t notice. Thomas occasionally heard parts of what they were saying, and from what he could gather, they were talking about their favourite foods.

Apparently Aris preferred bread to rice. What a riveting conversation!

Sonya threw a screwed up piece of paper over Thomas and hit the side of Harriet’s head. Harriet turned sharply towards him, and he shook his head rapidly, denying that he’d thrown it. Narrowing her eyes, she grabbed the paper ball up and flattened it out on her desk.

Whatever Sonya had written on there made Harriet smile.

Thomas almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Harriet scribbled a reply and threw it back over to Sonya.

Thomas sincerely hoped their conversation was over, because he really didn’t want to spend the next 40 minutes with paper flying back and forth over his head.

Teresa looked like she was asleep. Thomas didn’t mind that. She was being quiet, and wasn’t bothering anyone else with her inattention. If she continued like that she’d be well on her way to being his favourite person in the whole class.

Newt was being quiet too. Although, that wasn’t because he was sleeping, or actually paying attention. He was on his phone. By holding it below the desk, it was probably out of Vince’s line of sight, but Thomas could still see what he was doing.

A quick glance around the room told Thomas that if he was messaging someone else in the class, it was probably Winston.

When they’d all filed into the classroom, Winston had stopped by Newt’s desk on the way to his own, and dropped a piece of paper on it. Thomas had been worried at first, but had quickly been able to see that it wasn’t a notice. The paper was too thin for that. And now that Newt and Winston were both on their phones, Thomas could only assume that the paper had had Winston’s phone number on it.

Which was fine.

Newt was allowed to talk to whoever he wanted to.

Thomas couldn’t stop him from living his life.

And anyway, Newt hadn’t been given a notice yet. So long as he hadn’t received one, he was perfectly safe.

Thomas just wished that everyone would stop being so distracting while he was trying to pay attention in class.

  
  


Newt wasn’t surprised when Thomas dragged him over to an empty table at lunchtime. He’d been hoping to sit with a bigger group of people from their class, or maybe with some completely different people, but he’d figured that Thomas would think it would be better not to do that.

They sat opposite each other in silence for over 10 minutes before Thomas finally spoke.

“You don’t seem like an idiot.”

“Uh,” said Newt, “thanks, I think.”

“You’ve been texting Winston all morning.”

“So what?”

Thomas sighed. “Just be careful, okay? You’re safe so long as you haven’t been given a notice, but you still shouldn’t ever think you’re friends with any of them. They could hand you one and then stab you immediately if they wanted to.” He picked up his fork. “You can talk to whoever you want, but don’t do anything stupid.”

“Winston and I are planning on going to look around the gardens after school today.”

Thomas quickly swallowed his mouthful and pointed his fork at Newt. “See, that’s exactly what I mean by something stupid. What are you thinking?”

Newt shrugged. “I’m thinking that I can handle myself, and I want to see the gardens. I mentioned this to Winston, and he said he’d come along this afternoon. It’s not a big deal.”

“It could be.” Thomas lowered his voice. “He could try to kill you.”

“Thomas,” said Newt, “if I decide not to do things, just in case someone decides they want to kill me, then I’ll never do anything.”

“But you’ll be alive.”

“But I wouldn’t have  _ lived. _ ”

Thomas sighed. “You’re not wrong,” he said, while digging around in his pocket. After a few seconds he brought out his phone and put it on the table.

“What are you doing?” asked Newt.

“Setting up a contact for you to put your number in,” Thomas said, before sliding the phone over to Newt.

Sure enough, Thomas had typed Newt’s name in, and all that was left for Newt to do was type in his number. He quickly did so, and passed the phone back.

Thomas tapped the screen a couple of times, and Newt felt his own phone buzz in his pocket.

“Now you have my number too,” said Thomas, grinning. The smile faded somewhat as he said, “If you run into trouble, then call me or something.”

“Why?”

Thomas furrowed his brow. “I said I’d protect you, didn’t I? I can’t do that if I don’t know when you’re in trouble.”

“Oh,” said Newt. “So you didn’t want my number, just ‘cause you wanted my number?”

Newt was impressed at how quickly Thomas went red.

“No! I, uh, it really was just, not that I didn’t  _ want  _ it or, I just...” Thomas gave up and buried his head in his arms on the table.

Newt couldn’t help but laugh. He hadn’t been expecting this response. If he was being honest, it was kinda adorable.

“You’re mean,” said Thomas without lifting his head back up.

“Yup,” said Newt. “But I barely even said anything.  _ Imagine  _ what kind of reaction I could get from you if I-”

Thomas sat up sharply. “Don’t,” he said, pointing at Newt.

Newt held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright.”

He looked down to try and locate his knife and fork.

His fork was next to his plate, where he’d left it. His knife, however...

“Is that it?” said Thomas, pointing below the table.

Newt pushed his chair out so he could better see under the table.

Cursing himself, he grabbed the knife off the floor and stood. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and began walking to the plate return point. He could give this knife in there and just grab a new one from the front.

He thought over the conversation.

Thomas hadn’t seemed like he knew anything about the notice from that morning. And if his reaction to the barely-there flirting was anything to go by, Thomas was really terrible at hiding his true feelings. If it had been from him, then he would’ve avoided the subject altogether.

So the notice wasn’t from Thomas.

That didn’t mean that Newt could count on him to actively protect him though. When push came to shove, Newt doubted that Thomas would come through. And that was okay. Newt couldn’t expect somebody else to put their own life at risk, just to keep him safe. It wouldn’t be fair.

Newt reached the front and grabbed a new knife. He was about to turn back when he stopped.

There was a good chance that the notice had come from Winston. If that was the case, he needed to be prepared for it.

He needed to be able to defend himself.

Newt picked up another knife.

The knives they were provided to eat with weren’t the sharpest, but they were functional. They’d cut through skin with enough pressure behind them. Newt didn’t want to have to hurt anyone, but he didn’t want to die either.

He’d do it if he had to.

He slipped the spare knife up his sleeve and under his watch so it held firmly against his skin Once he was sure it wasn’t going to fall, or dig into him, he turned and walked back to his seat as if he hadn’t done anything at all.

  
  


Frypan opened the door to his room to see Winston sitting on a chair inside, leaning over like he was looking at something on the desk.

“Hey man,” said Frypan. “Nearly everyone’s in the common room right now. We’re all just hanging out. You wanna join?”

“No thanks,” came Winston’s response. “I’ve got plans for tonight already. You go have fun though.”

Frypan stepped further into the room. “What plans? What are you doing?”

Winston stood and stretched his arms up. “Newt and I are going to look around the gardens.”

Frypan walked over to the sink and grabbed a cup out of a cupboard. He filled it with water and started to drink. “Should I assume there’s an ulterior motive to this visit?”

Winston turned to face him and grinned. “Probably!” he said, and began to walk towards the door.

Now that he was no longer by the desk, Frypan could see exactly what he’d been looking at.

“Hey!” he snapped. “Stop!”

Winston did. “Yes? What is it?”

“What on earth were you doing with my knives?”

“I was only looking.”

Frypan put his cup down on the side, probably harder than was strictly necessary, and walked over to him. “Did I give you permission to look through my knives?”

“No, but-”

“No,” said Frypan, “I did not. Nor have I given you permission to go through  _ any  _ of my things. Next time I catch you doing that, I’ll kill you. Understand?”

Winston pouted. “But your knives are so cool!”

Frypan had to suppress a smile. “Yeah,” he said, “they are. But they’re for cooking, not killing. In fact...” he quickly darted across the room to the case of knives, but none of them were missing. He turned back to face Winston. “If you’d taken one I’d be killing you right now.”

Winston nodded. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll stick to my own for that. And I won’t look at them without permission again.”

Frypan flipped the case shut. “You won’t look at them  _ at all _ , we clear?”

Winston nodded again. “Yes,” he said. “Completely.”

  
  


Thomas walked to his room alone.

His plan for the rest of the afternoon and evening was to find some kind of reality show on Netflix to binge for hours. He didn’t have any homework, and his roommate was off being social. Thomas didn’t feel like exploring, so a Netflix binge sounded like his best bet.

He’d just reached the door when a shout made him pause.

“Hey, Thomas!”

He turned towards the voice.

Minho was jogging down the hall towards him.

“Yes?”

“Pretty much all of us are hanging in the common room right now. It’d be great if you joined us.”

Thomas shook his head. “I’d rather not.”

Minho sighed. “Look,” he said, “I get it. We’re all a bunch of killers out to get your boyfriend. Of course you don’t want to see more of us than you have to. But surely, if you really want to protect him, then it’s in your best interest to try getting to know us all a bit better. Know your enemy and all.”

Thomas blinked.

He hadn’t considered it like that before.

It made sense.

He narrowed his eyes at Minho. “Why would  _ you  _ point that out?”

Minho shrugged, and grinned. “Maybe I just don’t like seeing you fuck up so badly when we’re not even three full days in.”

Thomas eyed the door to his room.

Part of him still wanted to disappear in there and have that Netflix binge. Most of him did, actually.

But Minho was right.

Ugh.

“Okay,” he said. “Lead on.”

Minho’s smile grew even wider. Then, without a word, he turned and walked down the hall to the common room.

Thomas followed.

Nearly the whole class was inside already. People were sitting on various sofas, beanbags, and Teresa was lying on the floor. Alby was looking at the bookcase, and Brenda was setting up a card game with Aris. Aris waved Thomas and Minho over.

Thomas sat down as Minho asked what they were playing.

“Cheat,” said Aris. “You guys know how to play?”

Thomas shook his head.

Aris immediately launched into an explanation.

“Just so you know,” Brenda chimed in once Aris wrapped it up, “I’m brilliant at this game. You losers don’t stand a chance.”

Minho snatched up his cards and sorted through them. “It’s gonna be so funny when you lose,” he said.

Thomas caught Aris’ attention and rolled his eyes. Aris tried to hide his laughter, but wasn’t very successful.

“Hey!” said Minho.

“Sorry!”

As they played, it quickly became apparent that Brenda hadn’t been lying. She  _ was  _ good at the game. She seemed to know that Minho was lying every time he did it, and she caught Thomas and Aris out a fair amount as well. The boys held their own, though, and it didn’t look like anyone was getting any closer to winning.

Then Frypan walked into the room.

Brenda spotted him first, and immediately sat up to wave him over. However, once he turned towards them, she snapped her arm back to her side and called out across the room at him, “What’s got  _ you _ so pissed off?”

A lot of people looked up from whatever they were doing and turned their attentions to this new situation.

Frypan looked around at everyone and sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m annoyed because I caught Winston going through my things. It’s fine guys.”

Aris barely concealed a shudder. “I don’t know how you can be so calm about rooming with him. I know I wouldn’t be able to do it. I’d rather sleep in here.”

Frypan frowned. “It really wasn’t that big of a deal though? He hasn’t done anything wrong, what’s your issue with him?”

Aris’ eyes widened. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

All traces of other conversations in the common room had disappeared. Everyone’s focus was completely on this.

It was Aris’ turn to look around the room now. He took a deep breath and shook his head, a forced smile appearing on his face. “Don’t worry then. I’m probably wrong. Just ignore me.”

“No, go on,” said Ben, not unkindly. “What’s the matter with Winston?”

“Don’t tease us,” snapped Gally after a few seconds of silence. “Come on. Out with it.”

Thomas glance at Teresa, who hadn’t moved from her place on the floor. She had an arm flung over her eyes, and was breathing deeply. It would be easy to assume that she was asleep.

The small smile on her face told Thomas that she wasn’t.

It told him that she knew exactly what Aris was talking about.

Flushing red, Aris fumbled for his phone and typed something onto the screen.

“Hurry up!”

“I am! It’d be better if I showed you.”

Brenda gave her eyes an exaggerated roll and held her hand out. Aris smiled gratefully and placed his phone in her palm. She spun the phone so she could look at it properly, tapped a couple more times, and started to read off the screen.

_ “Three dead in latest attack by the so-called Modern Day Jack the Ripper. Police are appealing for any witnesses to come forward after Tuesday’s horrific attack. Reports of a disturbance were-” _

“No fucking way,” interrupted Sonya, her eyes wide. “That’s him? That’s Winston?”

Aris nodded.

“How’d you figure that?”

He gave a small shrug. “My group gets a lot of information.”

“Well,” said Gally, “it looks like we’ve got a complete psycho in the ranks.”

Frypan sat straight down on the spot he’d been standing on. “How the fuck am I supposed to share a room with this guy?”

“I can’t help but feel a little sorry for him,” said Alby, shaking his head. “He must’ve had a difficult life to make him like that.”

Frypan spun to face him. “Why would you feel sorry for him? Feel sorry for me! I’m the one who has to share a room with him.”

“Oh shush, you’re fine,” said Gally, rolling his eyes.

“No,” said Ben, “I’d be freaked out too if I was in that position.” He looked at Gally and smiled. “I’m glad I’m with you instead.”

“Even if he did have a difficult life, it’s no excuse,” said Sonya, voice laced with disgust. “I’m fairly certain we’ve all had ‘difficult lives’. Didn’t make us psycho serial killers.”

“We  _ are  _ killers, though,” said Gally. “There’s no point looking down on him, because most people would consider the rest of us to be just as bad. The only person not sharing a room with a killer is Thomas.”

“Gally,” said Minho, who at some point had taken hold of Aris’ phone and was staring down at it, “have you ever killed someone who wasn’t an actual target?” He looked up at him. “Even if the answer’s yes, have you ever cut them into ribbons while they were still alive? Because that’s what this guy’s done.”

Gally shrugged. “Okay,” he said, “I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a room with him either.”

“I can honestly say that this is the first time I’ve ever been glad that I’m a girl.”

It took Thomas longer to identify this voice than it had any of the others. For a moment, he was confused. Then he realised that it was Harriet who’d spoken.

Other than her reluctant introduction on the first day, Thomas didn’t think he’d heard her speak before. He was surprised that she’d chosen now of all times to change that.

“Amen, sister,” said Brenda. “Not that it’s gonna matter much longer anyway.”

“Wait,” said Thomas. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s given his notice in, so either way we’ll be rid of him soon.”

Thomas felt his blood run cold. “What?”

Brenda sighed. “Well,  _ somebody  _ definitely did, and Winston’s the only other one not here, so it’s got to have been him.” She turned to the rest of the room. “Unless someone else wants to claim it?”

Silence.

“There, you see?” she said, turning back to Thomas. “So his, uh, _hobbies_ , aren’t gonna matter-”

She kept talking, but Thomas didn’t hear her.

Winston had given in his notice.

He had under 48 hours in which to kill Newt.

They were alone together right now!

When had Winston given him the notice? How long ago? How much time was left? Had Newt already known about it at lunchtime? Why didn’t he say anything? Did Newt not trust him? Where were the fucking gardens and what was the fastest route?

Thomas ignored his classmate’s reactions as he ran out into the hall.

He had to get to Newt.

  
  


The gardens were beautiful.

There were rows and rows of flowers and plants outside that Newt thought looked absolutely stunning. He pointed some of his favourites out to Winston as they walked through them.

Some other kids were wandering through the gardens as well. Newt made sure to say hello to everyone they passed, and most of the time he got greeted back.

He hoped that he wouldn’t be attacked, but it definitely wouldn’t happen out here with so many people around.

There were rules.

“Hey, Newt.” said Winston, pointing to the building at the end of the field. “Let’s take a look in there.”

Newt knew that the sensible thing to do would be to decline. It would be isolated, and nobody would be able to hear him if he called for help.

But he did also really want to see what was kept in the greenhouses, and this was an opportunity to do so. Plus, ‘No, sorry, you might kill me over there,’ wasn’t exactly something he thought he could say to someone that he’d just been making polite conversation with.

He wanted to be friends with people. A statement like that would put one hell of a damper on the evening.

Then again, so would attempted murder.

He made sure he still had that knife with him before accepting.

From outside, the greenhouses looked big, but not anything special. From inside, however, it was a spectacular sight.

There were trees and plants from all over the world, placed in patches of earth that created an almost maze-like path around all of them. Each plant had a sign next to them, saying what they were and where they came from.

Newt could see himself spending a lot of time in here, just walking around.

He was just resisting the urge to start geeking out over a jackfruit when Winston spoke.

“You like it in here?”

Newt nodded rapidly. “Yes! I love it!”

Winston smiled. “Good,” he said. He looked around at the plants, some towering far over them. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“They are.”

Winston pulled out a knife. It was large, and looked like it was very sharp. Newt couldn’t tell where Winston had been hiding it.

He took an involuntary step back, and hoped that Winston wouldn’t notice.

He got away with it.

Unlike he’d feared, Winston didn’t come at him with the knife. Instead, he stepped over the boundary line and got close to one of the plants. One with white flowers sprouting all over it. He cut one of the flowers off and hopped back onto the path.

_ Now  _ he approached Newt. But, again, he didn’t use the knife.

He placed the freshly cut flower behind Newt’s ear.

He smiled. “You look really adorable with that flower there.”

“Thank you,” said Newt. “But don’t cut any more, okay? They’re so pretty, it’d be a shame to kill them like that.”

Winston stepped backwards, out of Newt’s personal space, and lifted his arms up in an exaggerated shrug.

“In my opinion, it’s pointless to act that way. They’re gonna die eventually anyway.” He gestured around himself with the knife. “Everything here is doomed to wither away and die if we do nothing to them. In my opinion, cutting flowers off while they’re still in full bloom is much kinder. That way, they can die while still looking as beautiful as they did in life. Pretty things should stay as pretty things, and should die as pretty things. It’d be a shame to let anything else happen to them.”

He focused back on Newt, gripping the knife tight. “The same applies to you. It’s much better for you to die now, than to let such beauty fade away.”

Newt barely had time to process Winston’s words before he lunged.

Winston swung the knife in front of him as he moved forwards.

Newt jumped back. A sting across his left cheek told him that he hadn’t managed to clear the path of the knife in its entirety.

He could deal with a cut on the cheek. That wasn’t a big deal.

He took a few more steps back, matching the leisurely pace at which Winston was walking towards him with. “You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“I know,” said Winston. “But I really want to.”

“You really don’t,” said Newt, holding his arms behind his back. “Walk away now or I’ll get the police involved.”

It was an empty threat. Even if he did call the cops, they wouldn’t help him. Nobody would.

He just had to hope that Winston didn’t know that.

Winston laughed. “You can’t call for help while you’re in here with me. I guess this just leaves me no room for error.”

Winston lunged again.

Newt, anticipating this move, ducked.

The knife just missed him. He felt it brush through the top of his hair, and wouldn’t have been surprised if it had cut some off.

He didn’t give Winston a chance to adjust his aim.

Newt gripped the knife he’d taken from the canteen earlier and jammed it upwards, hitting Winston in the armpit.

Winston howled in pain. Newt ran.

While earlier he’d been entranced by the maze-like layout of the greenhouse, now he was despising it more and more each second. It shouldn’t be that difficult to find an exit. At the very least they could’ve put up signs leading the way?

If he made it through today, he was going to come back and do it himself.

His leg wasn’t making this running-for-your-life thing any easier, either.

“Oh, Newt~” said a distant voice. “You don’t really think you can get away, do you? There’s only one exit and it’s behind me! You’re trapped! Might as well make it quick, don’t you think?"

Newt kept running.

“Actually, now that I think about it, I think I’d rather kill you slowly.” Laughter. “I wonder if you look as pretty on the inside as you do on the out? Let’s find out together!”

Newt had to stop.

His leg was threatening to give out on him. He couldn’t let that happen.

He took a moment to stand still, attempting to get his breathing back under control. Once he was sure he wasn’t about to throw up or something, he started to walk.

Running might’ve stopped being an option, but he had to keep moving. Somehow he needed to circle around Winston and get out. Then he’d be surrounded by other people, and Winston wouldn’t be able to attack him. At least, not without getting himself disqualified.

Newt had nearly given up hope when he saw the door.

It wasn’t an exit. He wasn’t anywhere near the outer walls, so this door would only be leading him deeper into the greenhouse.

But it would be harder for Winston to find him if he started travelling between rooms. And there was a chance that there was another person in there.

If there was, it could very well keep him alive.

He paused for half a second to read the sign on the door.

_ DANGER - Faculty Only Beyond This Point _

He’d take getting in trouble for being in a restricted area over getting killed any day.

He pushed the door open and went inside.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the dim lights brightened, and he got a good look at the room he now found himself in.

Unlike the main greenhouse, the plants here weren’t set out in any sort of pattern. There was no maze here. Just rows.

If he got out of sight of the door, this room could still be useful as a hiding place. But not for long. The moment that Winston checked in here, Newt would be trapped.

He should have some time before that, though.

Slowly, Newt walked away from the door.

He looked around to see if there was something he could drag over to barricade it, but didn’t have any luck. All the plants were planted in the ground, so there weren’t any flowerpots he could use, and nothing else was loose.

He could wait by the door and make a break for it when it opened?

That was an incredibly risky idea, and sounded like a good way to serve himself up on a silver platter.

Newt stopped walking.

Why was this area restricted in the first place?

Fuck, were the plants toxic?

A quick glance at the plaque next to the shrub closest to him told him that yes, they were.

He sincerely hoped that nothing in here was toxic enough that it would affect him even if he kept his distance. Imagine that, dying because he picked a bloody stupid hiding place surrounded by fucking toxic plants. The only silver lining would be a memorial with the Darwin Awards, and how good that would be depended heavily on your own point of view.

Regardless, it would be a waste for  _ this  _ to be the end of him. Especially after everything he’d been through to get this far.

His leg ached.

He’d put too much pressure on it.

He lowered himself to the ground, stretching his leg out in front of him as he sat. If Winston came in he’d have to find it in himself to get up and keep going, but for now he needed to rest.

He scanned the plaques he could see from his position.

He knew that if he just sat there doing nothing, he could very easily start to panic. Right now he needed to focus on surviving. He could panic later. He could spend hours freaking out if that’s what he really needed to do, but for now he needed to push it down and stay alert.

The information about the various plants helped him to do that. He already knew the details about most of them anyway, so reading it over was helping a lot to keep him calm.

When his gaze fell onto one of the plaques, he stopped.

An idea started to form in his head.

He just needed to find some gloves...

  
  


Newt and Winston weren’t in the gardens.

They weren’t  _ there. _

Thomas ran up to a random girl. She was sitting alone on a bench, reading, and looked like she was around 16.

“Did you see a couple of boys come by here recently?”

The girl looked up from her book, pushing her hair behind her ear. “You talking to me?”

Trying his hardest not to show how urgent his request really was, he gestured around them. “Who else is there?”

The girl shrugged. “I was reading. Wasn’t listening. What did you want?”

“Two boys should’ve come down here not long ago. My age. Did you see them?”

The girl nodded. “Yeah, I saw. They went in there,” she said, pointing towards the giant greenhouse. “I thought it was kinda weird because it’s warm enough out here, and it’s only the first day so it’s not like they would’ve been set any work that they’d need to go in there for.”

“So you saw them go in, and they’d be alone in there?”

“Uh huh.”

It was possible he was already too late.

He barely remembered to thank the girl before running over to the greenhouse.

It looked even bigger up close.

How on Earth was he going to find Newt in there?

Gripping the knife he’d quickly grabbed out of his room on the way down tightly in his hand, he entered the greenhouse.

Inside it was quiet. Still.

There was no sign that anyone else was there.

No.

There  _ was. _

After Thomas had traversed a little of frankly unnecessarily complicated layout, he saw something.

He saw a white flower lying in the middle of the path.

A white flower with blood splattered on it.

A few paces away from the flower, a small knife - like the ones they’d been given to eat with at lunch that day - was lying on the ground.

A rustling sound caused him to snap his head up in time to see Winston emerging from the trees. 

“Hello Thomas,” said Winston, a cold smile on his face. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Where is he?”

Winston shook his head. “Not even gonna say hello back?”

Thomas said nothing.

He sighed. “Newt and I are busy right now. It’d be amazing if you could not get in our way. Sound good?”

“If you’ve laid a finger on-”

“I don’t need your permission, and I certainly don’t need to bow to whatever threat you’re about to throw at me.” Winston took a step closer. “Just run along. It’ll make everything a lot easier for the both of us.”

Thomas held his ground.

“Or what?”

Winston raised an eyebrow, and it was all the warning that Thomas got.

It was all he needed.

Winston’s knife glanced off Thomas’. Winston himself only just managed to dodge Thomas’ return strike.

Neither paused for breath before they went for each other again.

Again, they managed to dodge each other, though this time it was Thomas who came closest to being hit.

Thomas knew one of them would fuck up at some point, and it would be over. He just had to make sure it wasn’t him.

He went to jab to the left. Winston fell for it, and wasn’t prepared for the fist that Thomas sent flying into the right side of his head.

Winston went down.

Thomas climbed on top and wrapped an arm around his neck.

He froze.

He knew what he needed to do next. He knew how to break someone’s neck from this position. Janson had drilled him on it, had made him practise on dummies enough that he knew exactly what the next step was.

But he couldn’t.

He told his arms to move, but they didn’t, they  _ wouldn’t. _

Now really wasn’t the time for this.

Okay, new plan. Squeeze.

Unconsciousness would have to do.

Thomas tightened his hold, batting away all of Winston’s attempts to free himself.

This would be over in just a few seconds.

Then he saw something move. A shadow behind the trees.

_ Newt! _

It only took his attention away for a moment, but it was enough. Winston broke Thomas’ grip and threw him off. Before Thomas could make sense of what was happening, punches were raining down on him. He curled up, trying to protect himself as best he could.

He needed an opening.

At least Winston had dropped the knife.

Then, suddenly, the punches stopped.

Thomas jumped to his feet, ready to take advantage of whatever had caused Winston to pause.

He needn’t have bothered.

Newt had pulled Winston off of him. He had one arm wrapped around Winston’s arms and torso, stopping him from attacking, while the other was pressing a bundle of flowers into Winston’s face.

Newt was stronger than he looked. Winston was putting up one hell of a fight, but Newt didn’t lose his grip.

After a few seconds, Winston’s eyes opened wide in panic. His thrashing grew more violent as he struggled to break free.

Thomas ran forwards and flung his arms around them both, pinning Winston’s arms to his sides.

He turned his head away from the flowers. He wasn’t sure, but if Winston’s panic had anything to do with them, then Thomas didn’t want to risk breathing them in.

It turned out to be the right call. After just a few more seconds, Winston slumped in their arms.

A moment of silence passed.

“Thanks,” said Newt, panting heavily. “I don’t think I’d have been able to hold him for much longer.”

Thomas stepped away, letting Winston fall to the floor.

The flowers dropped with him.

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Newt practically flinging himself at him, pulling him into a hug. He staggered back, trying not to topple over. He couldn’t help the groan of pain that escaped his mouth.

Newt immediately pulled back, his hands on Thomas’ shoulders, holding him at arm’s length.

“Are you okay?” said Newt, voice full of concern. “He didn’t get you or anything?”

Thomas nodded. “I’m gonna be bruised to hell, but I’ll live.”

Newt nodded, biting his lip. He’d been cut on the cheek at some point, but didn’t seem overly concerned about it. “Thank God for that.”

Thomas looked down at the boy on the floor, and the flowers scattered beneath him.

“What  _ were  _ they?” he asked. “And where did you find them?”

Newt pulled his arms away. Thomas ignored the way his heart sank just a little at the loss of contact.

“What, these?” said Newt, bending over to pick one up.

Thomas nodded.

“They’re gelsemium. Commonly used as a source for anesthetic. I found them in the faculty only section.”

“Oh yeah?” he said, crossing his arms (slowly, as his side was hurting more and more with each second). “And what were you doing in there? You don’t look like faculty to me.”

Newt saw it for the joke it was and laughed. “Trying not to get killed, obviously. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” He softly kicked Winston’s leg. “I’d say it’s still looking like one.”

Thomas carefully uncrossed his arms. “Newt,” he said, “why didn’t you tell me about the notice?”

Newt’s smile fell away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I should’ve. But I didn’t know if I could really trust you. For all I knew, it could’ve been  _ from  _ you. It wasn’t signed. I didn’t think I could take the risk.”

Thomas stepped forwards and placed a hand on Newt’s shoulder. Newt gave a jolt and his gaze jumped up to meet Thomas’.

“That makes complete sense,” said Thomas. “But you need to tell me in future, okay?” He let a small smile creep onto his face. “I promise that if I ever decide to give you _my_ notice, I’ll sign it and do it in person so you know for sure it’s from me.”

A hint of amusement showed in Newt’s eyes. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Good,” said Thomas, and he stepped away. He looked down at Winston. “How long will he be out for?”

“Depends on how resistant he is to it. But he went down pretty quickly, so I think we’ve got some time.”

“So what should we do with him?”

Newt hummed in thought, then smirked.

“Let’s leave him by the gelsemium plant. Make it look like he did this to himself.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Thomas bent to grab Winston’s legs, his side protesting the whole way down. Newt didn’t look like he was having an easy time of it, either, as he was also wincing.

“You okay?” said Thomas.

“Yeah,” said Newt. “It’s just....” he sighed. “My buggin’ leg doesn’t like it when I expect it to function, useless thing.” He looked Thomas over, and gave Winston’s arms a sharp tug, pulling his legs out of Thomas’ grasp. “Even so, I think I’m in a better position to carry him over. You bring the flowers.”

He turned and started dragging Winston along behind him, leaving Thomas no choice but to pick up the flowers - and knives - scattered on the ground before following.

Thomas entered the faculty-only room just as Newt was dropping Winston somewhere about halfway down the row nearest the door. Thomas walked up and placed the things he was holding down next to him.

Sure enough, the plant by Winston’s head was named gelsemium, and its flowers matched the ones Newt had used to knock him out. But nowhere on the plaque beside it did it say that it would work like it had.

“How did you know?”

“Huh?”

Thomas pointed at the plaque. “How did you know it would knock him out?”

Newt smiled sadly. “I’ve had a lot of operations, and I like plants. One day I got curious about what the anaesthetic is made from, seeing as I’ve been given it so many times.” He let out a small laugh. “I stayed up all night reading about it.”

“How was there even that much to read?”

“Hey,” said Newt, smile becoming more genuine, “there’s a whole history of its discovery and how it started to be used in medical procedures. If you like, I could tell you about it while we do something about those bruises.”

Thomas shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about me, I’m fine.”

Newt rolled his eyes. “No you’re not. So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go back to our room. You’re gonna lie down, while I go find something cold. Preferably something frozen. Probably a carton of ice cream, seeing as that’s what we’ve got. We’re going to put it on wherever there are bruises forming so the swelling goes down. Got it?”

Thomas knew what he meant, but couldn’t resist. “You’re going to smear ice cream on me? I didn’t know you were into that.”

Newt’s laughter was loud and infectious. Thomas simply had to laugh along with him.

“You’re impossible,” said Newt once he’d pulled himself together. “But I’m gonna take that comment as a ‘yes’.”

Thomas nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

  
  


Teresa heard a noise beside her.

She was sitting in the infirmary, next to the only occupied bed in the room.

It was less than a week into the school year, and most people had managed to avoid getting sick or injured thus far.

All except one.

Well, all except three, if she was being accurate, but Newt and Thomas had never shown up for treatment. As far as the school records showed, it was just the one.

It was just Winston.

She clicked her phone off, slid it into her pocket, and stood.

Miyoko would have to wait a bit for a response.

“Hello.” She smiled. “It’s nice of you to finally wake up. I’ve been spending all my spare time here, but you’ve been asleep.”

Winston blearily looked up at her. “Hi?”

“I’ll cut right to the chase. Your time ran out 12 hours ago. You’re done.”

Suddenly wide awake, Winston sat bolt upright.

“No! Please, let me stay! I don’t care about the reward! I won’t even go after Newt if that’s not allowed anymore! Just please don’t kick me out of Class A! I don’t have anywhere else to go!”

Teresa was unmoved. “Your roommate’s already packed up all your things, and kindly placed your suitcases under your bed. Once the doctor here deems you strong enough to leave the infirmary, you are to take your things and leave the premises. Is that understood?”

Winston started spewing more protests, but was silenced by the look on Teresa’s face.

“Is that understood?” she repeated.

Meekly, he nodded.

“Good!” She smiled, and grabbed her bag from below her chair. “Let’s never meet again, okay?”

And with that, she left the infirmary behind her.

  
  


“Class, I’m afraid I have some bad news.” Vince paused before continuing. “Winston’s had to transfer away suddenly. I don’t have all the details as to why, but I believe it was due to some sort of family emergency. He didn’t have a chance to say goodbye, which is a shame.” He cleared his throat, before continuing. “Also, I’ve had a notice from the biology department saying that it is imperative that students read the signs, and keep out of restricted sections. They’re restricted for a reason. We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt, now would we?”

Gally sniggered.

Brenda tore a page out from her notebook, rolled it into a ball, and aimed for the back of his head.

Bullseye!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is why the tag about owing winston a formal apology has been there since day 1. in canon he's actually a decent guy and he absolutely does not deserve the way he's been portrayed here. i'll make it up to him someday


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out from behind a bookshelf* i can't promise this gap between chapters won't happen again, thanks for sticking around <33

If Alby was being completely honest, he’d been worried about what the food would be like.

In the ‘orphanage’ he’d grown up in - if that was even an accurate term for that place - the taste of the food had never been a priority. Everything had been bland, mushy, and gross. The cooks had been so focused on making sure there was enough for everyone that they’d never paid any attention to making it _good._

If anyone complained about it, they were just told that that’s what food in normal schools was like.

And so Alby had been seriously worried that he’d have gotten away from that place, only to face more of the same.

He’d never been happier to be wrong.

Maybe it was true that most schools were like that. But WCKD Academy was a prestigious private school. Of course they’d put more effort into their meals.

It was genuinely the best food he could ever remember eating.

He said as much over dinner one day.

Teresa nodded enthusiastically. “I know!” She looked around the group sat at the table. “It’s great, isn’t it?”

Frypan shrugged. “I mean, it’s alright, I guess.”

Teresa froze. She rested her fork on the side of the plate and turned towards him. “What?” she said.

He rolled his eyes. “The food here isn’t _bad._ It’s just that I’ve made better myself.”

A moment of tense silence passed.

Then...

“You take that back right now!”

Frypan laughed. “What? Why should I? It’s true!”

She firmly shook her head. “No you’re not. You’re lying.”

“I’m not!”

“WCKD has the best food out of anywhere, ask anyone.”

“Teresa,” Minho interjected, “have you ever actually eaten food that wasn’t prepared here?”

“Of course I have!” A look of horror crossed her face. “Don’t tell me you’re siding with him.”

Minho grinned. “I’ve never tried his cooking, so not exactly, but I wouldn’t say the food here is the best _ever_.”

Brenda nodded in agreement. “It’s better than what most schools churn out, though,” he added.

“Oh, yes,” said Minho. “Definitely.”

Aris nodded rapidly.

“Oh, I agree with you guys there,” said Frypan. “I’m just saying that I could do better than this.”

Teresa leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Go on then,” she said. “If you’re so _great_ at cooking, tell me what exactly is wrong with this dish.”

Frypan didn’t even blink before responding with, “This is _supposed_ to be a curry, but it’s too bland. Sure, there’s _some_ spice there, but not nearly enough for it to pass as authentic.”

“It tastes fine!”

“I’m not disagreeing,” said Frypan. “But that’s just it. It’s _fine_. I could make a better curry than this in my sleep.”

Teresa clenched her hands into fists.

Alby was starting to regret ever commenting on the quality of the food.

Then, Brenda burst out laughing.

“Really guys? You’re getting angry over the food? The freaking food? Surely if you’re gonna fight, there are better things to fight over.”

“Hey,” said Frypan, holding up his hands in surrender, “I’m not the one who’s getting angry over nothing.”

Teresa took a deep breath and unclenched her fists. “Sorry,” she said. “This place means a lot to me, so I don’t really like it when people say anything bad about it. I overreacted.”

“It sponsors a murder program,” Minho deadpanned.

Teresa huffed a laugh. “True,” she said. “I guess I should already be okay with it not being perfect, but I’m dumb sometimes.” She turned to Frypan. “You’ll have to make me your version of this some time, okay? See if you’re right.”

Frypan nodded. “Absolutely.”

They all continued eating in silence for a few seconds, before Alby said, “So, Fry, you cook?”

He laughed. “Duh.”

“Is it just a hobby, or something to do with work?”

The smile fell away from Frypan’s face. “Both,” he said shortly. “Why do you ask?”

Alby smiled politely. “You’ll have to count me out of the curry tasting, then.”

Frypan laughed again, shaking his head. “Dude,” he said, “you’re good. I’d never tamper with anything I’d made. I never have, and I never will.” A look of pride crossed his face. “The things I create are much too good for me to disrespect them like that.”

“But-”

“Something made by somebody _else_ , however, is fair game.” He winked. “I’ll do all sort of shit to that, and whoever’s eating it won’t have any idea until it’s _far_ too late.”

“But anything made by you is safe?”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah,” said Alby, “I’m still going to pass on the curry tasting. Sorry.”

“Well,” said Brenda, barely managing to stop herself from laughing again, “I’d certainly like to try some.”

“Me too,” said Minho.

“And me!” said Aris.

Frypan grinned. “We’ll do it this weekend!” He looked over Alby’s head towards the door of the dining hall. “Huh,” he said, “I wasn’t sure if they were gonna come down today.”

Alby twisted in his seat to look.

Newt and Thomas had just walked in, and were making their way to the front to get their food. A quick glance at the clock told Alby that if they’d been just five minutes later, they’d have been turned away.

“What’s made them so late?” asked Aris.

Alby turned back to the group to see Minho and Brenda smirking.

“I can think of a few things they could’ve been doing,” said Minho.

Teresa shook her head, a small smile on her face. “I doubt they’d have willingly almost missed dinner. Not even for that.”

“They missed dinner a few weeks ago,” Aris pointed out.

“Yeah,” said Brenda, “but that was because Winston was trying to kill them.”

“Oh yeah.”

“So what do you guys think they were up to?” said Minho, as if they were debating something hugely important.

Alby didn’t think it was hugely important.

“I hate to burst your bubble, but they probably just lost track of time.” Alby shook his head. “You must’ve realised by now that Thomas can’t hide his emotions for shit. If they were fucking, we’d know about it.”

“Wow, Alby,” said Minho. “You just had to ruin our fun, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “You wouldn’t like it if people went around saying you were fucking your roommate, would you?”

Minho glanced at Aris, then looked back at Alby, staring him down. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Aris suddenly became very focused on the food left on his plate, but it did nothing to hide his blush.

Teresa broke the moment by standing. She slung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed her plate. “I’m gonna go talk to them,” she said.

Brenda snorted. “Good luck.”

Teresa grinned. “Thanks!” she said, and walked off.

“Hey, Alby,” said Frypan, “are you sure you don’t want to join us this weekend?” He held his hands up in surrender. “You can supervise the whole cooking process if you like! I promise I won’t try anything.”

Alby smiled, and shook his head. “Thanks for offering, but I’m good. I’ll probably want to spend some extra time studying for that math test, anyway.”

Brenda let out an exaggerated groan, pushed her plate to the side, and plonked her head on the table. “Why the fuck do we have to do tests anyway? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Vince thinks we’re a normal class,” said Aris. “Tests are a part of that.”

Brenda opened one eye. “I wasn’t actually looking for an answer.”

Minho swallowed the mouthful he’d somehow found time to start eating, and said, “Petition for Class A to be exempt from all tests and exams.”

Brenda shut her open eye and, head still on the table, held out a hand for Minho to shake. “Signed.”

“Co-signed,” added Aris.

“Me too!” said Frypan.

Alby sat back in his chair, content to let them get on with it while he finished eating.

He didn’t particularly want to do the test either, but it wasn’t that big a deal. It was a math test. It wasn’t going to kill them.

Then again, these four had all mentioned at some point that they’d spent at least a bit of time in normal schools. Alby figured that their overreaction to the mere concept of a test was probably a learned behaviour from that.

He’d never sat a math test before.

He’d never been to _school_ before.

Not a proper one, at least. He’d gotten an education. Everyone he’d grown up with had. It just hadn’t been a typical one.

He was much more familiar with being tested on how quickly he could properly rig up an explosive. Compared to that, a simple math test should be a piece of cake.

Didn’t mean he wanted to do it.

...

He didn’t have to.

He could be done with Class A before the week was out.

Then he could get on with his life.

There were benefits to sitting around in Class A. There was the food, the company (because he couldn’t help but like most of his classmates), and the lack of an authority figure breathing down his neck telling him to kill person after person after person.

But if he stayed here too long, he risked losing.

And then he’d have to go back.

He couldn’t let that happen.

And getting the class out of a math test would be a bonus.

He finished his meal and stood. The others quickly said bye, before returning to whatever their conversation was now.

None of them seemed to realise what he’d decided to do.

Good.

That way they wouldn’t be able to interfere with his preparations.

 

Thomas reached the dining hall first, with Newt close behind.

He hadn’t meant to be late! He really hadn’t! But he and Newt had found Deadpool on Netflix and, for some reason, hadn’t looked at the time before deciding to watch it.

It was a good thing that Newt had glanced at the clock when he did, or they’d have missed dinner entirely.

It was difficult to miss the way that a group of Class A people turned and looked at them as they walked in. Of course they did. Lot of regular students did, too.

The woman serving the food looked annoyed as she dished theirs up. Thomas didn’t blame her in the slightest.

They’d only just made it.

Thomas and Newt took their food over to an empty table in the corner and practically collapsed into their seats.

“Let’s never do that again,” said Newt.

“Agreed,” said Thomas. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his heartbeat down. “How’s your leg?”

Newt shrugged. “Could’ve done without us running down several flights of stairs, but it’s been worse.”

Thomas nodded. “Tell me if it gets bad, okay?”

Newt rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face. “Yes, Thomas.”

Thomas smiled back, before turning his attention to the food.

A few minutes passed in silence.

“Thomas.”

“Yes?” he said, looking up at him.

“What’s the point of getting curry if you’re not going to eat any of the vegetables?” Newt looked pointedly at the pile of vegetables that Thomas had pushed to the side of his plate. “That’s what makes up most of it. You might as well have got something else if you aren’t gonna eat them.”

Thomas turned his head away in mock offense. “Don’t tell me how to live my life!”

He couldn’t help but smile at Newt’s laughter. “I’m not,” he said, “it’s just a shame to see it wasted.”

Thomas pushed his plate over. “You can have them if you like.”

“Is that a serious offer,” asked Newt, with an eyebrow raised. “Because if it is, then I _will_ be taking your food.”

“It’s serious.”

Newt grinned, and pulled Thomas’ plate towards him. He scraped the abandoned vegetables onto his own plate, before returning the rest of Thomas’ meal to him. “Thanks!”

“No problem.”

“So,” said Newt as he mixed his newly acquired vegetables in with the rest of his meal. “Who’s your favourite Deadpool character?”

Thomas grinned. “You say that like you’re gonna judge me forever based on my answer.”

Newt shrugged, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Who says I’m not?”

Thomas shrugged. “Negasonic Teenage Warhead.”

Newt nodded in approval. “Good,” he said, “we can be friends.”

“Oh, because me saving your life wasn’t enough?”

“Nope!”

“Okay, I see how it is.”

Newt laughed again.

Thomas thought for a moment that he didn’t want to hear anything else ever again. He shook his head slightly to banish such a ridiculous thought. He was only just finding himself comfortable enough to call Newt his friend. There was no need to go any further than that.

“Out of interest,” he said, “which characters would’ve lead to you saying we weren’t friends anymore?”

Newt hummed in thought, before saying, “Francis. He’s a dick.”

“But he’s British!”

“Still a dick.”

“You’ve gotta admit he’s a pretty cool villain though.”

Newt shook his head. “Not really. I’ve seen way cooler in lots of other things.”

“True,” said Thomas. “Like Magneto.”

“I could get into a very long rant about how the films have done Magneto a disservice by constantly painting him as the villain.”

“I know right?”

Newt’s face lit up. “You didn’t tell me you were into this stuff!”

“Neither did you!”

“Excuse me?”

Both boys turned to see who’d spoken.

Teresa was standing by their table, holding her half-eaten meal in her hand. “Can I sit?”

“Sure,” said Newt, kicking out a chair for her.

“Thanks,” she said as she sat down.

“Why are you here?” said Thomas.

“Hey, that’s not-”

Teresa held up a hand to cut Newt off. “It’s fine, I don’t mind him asking. I just wanted a second opinion on something.”

“What is it?” said Thomas.

“Frypan thinks the food here isn’t that good. I think it is. Thoughts?”

“I think the food here’s great!” said Newt. “But Fry’s a chef, isn’t he? He’s probably used to things being done to a different standard. This _is_ just a school, after all.”

“How the fuck do you know that about Frypan?” asked Thomas.

Newt smiled. “By talking, listening, and generally being friendly. You should try it out sometime.”

Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” said Teresa, turning more towards Newt. “How are you settling in? Are you liking it here so far?”

“Mostly.”

Teresa tilted her head in concern. “Mostly? Why only mostly?”

Thomas wished he’d had his phone out at that moment so he could’ve gotten a picture of Newt’s face. All trace of friendliness dropped away, leaving the most unamused expression that Thomas had ever seen in its wake. Newt stared at her, not saying a word, just waiting for her to put it together.

It didn’t take her very long.

She let out a small laugh. “Sorry!” she said. “I’m really am dumb sometimes. But,” she said, lowering her voice, “between you and me, I think you’re gonna make it.”

If it weren’t for the fact that she was working with the people who wanted Newt dead, Thomas thought he could probably have been friends with this girl.

Newt put his knife and fork down. “I don’t want to talk about this. Thomas, are you done?”

A quick glance down at his plate told him that yes, he was.

He nodded, and followed Newt out of the room.

He continued to follow as Newt walked straight past the elevator and started up the stairs. After a few minutes of silence, Thomas jogged round so he was in front and turned to face him, switching to walking backwards.

“You okay?”

Newt sighed, and stopped walking. “Yeah. As much as can be expected, I guess.”

“Look,” said Thomas, stepping down so they were level, “I know you just said that you didn’t want to talk about it, but...” he trailed off, unsure of how exactly to word what he wanted to say.

“But what?” Newt asked slowly.

Thomas decided to just come out and say it. “Do you know about the rules we’ve been given? Because knowing about them could be what keeps you alive.”

Only then did Thomas realise how much Newt had tensed up. He visibly relaxed, and said, “I know them.”

“Then tell me.”

Newt’s mouth flickered with a hint of a smile. “You have to give me a notice, after which you have 48 hours to kill me or you’re out. You aren’t allowed to kill me outside of school grounds or term time. If anyone outside of Class A finds out or gets involved, then whoever was responsible for the lapse gets disqualified. Unless it’s me, of course, or I’d have yelled it from the rooftops already.”

Thomas blinked. “Huh,” he said. “I guess you do know them.”

Newt smiled sadly. “Like you said, knowing these rules inside and out could be what keeps me alive.”

He resumed walking up the stairs, and Thomas walked beside him.

“Did you know that the Deadpool films are only rated 15 in the UK?”

Thomas wasn’t done with what they’d been talking about, but he couldn’t not react to this. “What? No, that can’t be right.”

Newt shook his head. “That’s what I thought! But no, they really are! I saw the first one when it came out, and there were so many families in the screening it was actually funny. They all looked a bit shell shocked during the credits.”

“They would’ve been, yeah.”

“I can only imagine that nobody actually watched it when they were deciding on a rating. They were just like ‘it’s a superhero film, but small kids can’t watch it, so just put it up by one and it’ll be fine’. Spoiler alert, it wasn’t fine.”

Thomas nudged him with his elbow. “Bet you’re glad you got to see it, though.”

“Oh yeah, definitely.”

Thomas took a deep breath. “Newt,” he began.

“Thomas,” responded Newt.

“Why are we here? Why do people want you dead enough to run Class A? I don’t get it.”

Newt’s smile faded and he looked away from Thomas, instead focusing on the ground in front of him as he walked. “I’ve already told you all I can.”

“But that’s barely anything!”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I want to tell you everything, but I’ll get in trouble if I do that.”

“More trouble than you’re already in?”

A breath of laugher escaped from Newt, who then quickly clapped a hand over his mouth.

“I didn’t realise that was a joke?”

Newt shook his head and dropped his hand so he could push open the door to their floor. Thomas was glad to see that he was smiling again. “It wasn’t, not really. But you made a good point. I’m already in trouble, so does it really make much dif-”

He cut himself off and stopped still.

Thomas followed his gaze to see what he was looking at.

Pinned to the door of room 1, of _their_ room, was an advance notice.

“Don’t move,” said Thomas as he crossed the hall to their door. He ripped the notice down and looked it over. “It isn’t signed,” he said. “The sender wants to take us by surprise.”

Knife already in hand, Thomas slowly and carefully pushed the door open.

There was no one there.

At first glance, everything looked exactly the same. Newt’s laptop was still hooked up to the tv, and Netflix was still paused halfway through the credits of the movie. The beds looked to be untouched. The open Dorito packet was still exactly where they’d left it, as was Newt’s unfinished cup of hot chocolate.

Both of those things would have to be thrown away now. Thomas wasn’t interested in taking any chances.

He took a few steps further into the room. He heard Newt follow behind him.

“Can you see anything?”

“Nobody’s here,” said Newt.

Thomas heard the door click shut behind them.

“Is anything out of place?”

A few seconds of silence, and then...

“There’s something wrong with the fridge.”

Thomas spun to face it.

Newt was right. There _was_ something wrong with the fridge. The door looked like it hadn’t been shut properly.

Thomas went over to it to get a closer look. He placed his knife down on the counter next to the fridge, and pulled the door open a fraction.

He immediately spotted what was wrong.

Someone had wired an explosive to the door mechanism. If Thomas had opened the door any further than he already had, they’d both have died.

Thankfully, he was familiar with this type of explosive, it being yet another thing that Janson had drilled him on using. It didn’t take much for him to undo it and safely remove it so it wouldn’t explode. He placed the now disarmed bomb in the middle of the room, away from anything that could knock into it, before returning to the fridge and opening the door wide.

“Was that it?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” said Thomas. “It seemed almost too easy.”

“You disarmed a bomb, and that’s too easy?”

“Yes.”

“I hate this.”

“Can you see anything out of place in here,” said Thomas, standing to the side so that Newt could see into the fridge.

Newt studied it for a few seconds. He bit his lip, and said, “I could be wrong about this, but I think the apple juice bottle might be facing a different way than it was when I put it in there this morning.”

Thomas pulled the bottle out of the door and held it over the sink. He stabbed its base, letting the juice drain away.

Sure enough, something had been placed inside the bottle, secured to the lid. Had the bottle been opened, the results would’ve been disastrous.

“That’ll be it,” said Thomas. “The bomb on the door was a decoy. Whoever set this up wasn’t expecting you to realise there was something wrong with the juice until it was too late.”

Newt sighed as he watched Thomas put it in the middle of the room with the deactivated bomb. “That was a new bottle as well. I was looking forward to it!”

“You were looking forward to apple juice?”

“Don’t judge my life choices!” Newt echoed Thomas’ earlier statement.

“Did you tell anyone else about it?”

Newt glanced upwards as he thought. “I told Minho when he asked what our plans for this evening were, but he was in the dining hall the whole time, so this couldn’t have been him. Anyone else could’ve overheard me, though.”

“Who else was in the dining hall?” asked Thomas as he grabbed the Doritos and cold hot chocolate off the coffee table.

“Teresa,” said Newt. “And if Minho was there, then Aris was too. And Frypan. Maybe Alby? I’m not sure who else.”

“Did any of them leave before we did?” He poured the hot chocolate down the drain, and added the open Doritos to the pile.

“I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” said Thomas. “Neither do I.” He shook his head. “We both need to be more aware of our surroundings.”

Newt nodded, a sad look on his face. “I know.” He looked at the pile in the middle of the room. “We do know one thing about this person, though.”

“What’s that?”

“They’re not thinking this through.” Newt gestured towards the pile. “I mean, look at it! They were trying to blow us up! That wouldn’t have just got us. There are normal students in the rooms right below us, and they’d have been hurt too. Plus, an explosion going off like that would definitely have affected the whole school in some way. Even if it _had_ killed me, they would’ve been disqualified.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Thomas caught Newt’s eye, a smile creeping onto his face. “We just did them a favour.”

“We did,” Newt laughed. “And we know they’re not being careful.”

Thomas nodded. “It won’t make much difference to you if you die, though.”

Newt sighed. “Yeah, I know.” He bent down and picked up the open Doritos bag and sealed bottle. “What are we gonna do with these?”

Thomas grabbed the disarmed bomb. “Fancy a walk to the science labs? They should have somewhere to dispose of these down there.”

“So long as we come straight back after.”

“We stick together like glue for the next 48 hours, okay Newt?”

Newt nodded. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

 

Alby stood in the doorway of his room, watching down the corridor for any sign that his plan had worked.

When he saw movement coming from room 1, he ducked back into his room, before slowly peeking out to look.

There were Newt and Thomas. Unscathed. Holding the bombs he’d placed, and making their way towards the building’s exit.

Damn.

He’d really hoped that that’d be it.

Now the clock was ticking, and he needed a plan B.

He didn’t have a plan B!

He pressed his head against the door, trying to calm himself down. He had 48 hours. That was plenty of time. He’d sleep on it, and figure something out in the morning. There was no rush. Nobody else had put a notice in, and neither Newt nor Thomas knew that it had come from him. He had time.

He stepped out into the hall, pulling his door shut behind him. If he wanted to maintain the advantage he had by his identity being unknown, then he had to act like he normally did. Which meant he had to drop by the common room for at least an hour and at least _pretend_ to be social. Even if all he really wanted to do was hide away from everyone else.

He’d made it halfway there when Teresa suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Shit!” He narrowly avoided crashing into her. “Where did you come from?”

She smiled sweetly. “You handed in your notice just now, correct?”

He shook his head in disbelief. “How did you know about that?”

“I know all.”

“And can apparently teleport.”

She laughed. “Or you just weren’t paying attention. Which is poor form, especially for someone on a time limit.” She shrugged. “But never mind about that. I need to know what you’d like your reward to be, should you succeed.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You mean _when_ I succeed.”

“Sure, when, whatever, what’s your reward?”

Alby didn’t need any time to think about it.

“I want to quit. I want nothing to do with the organisation who sent me here anymore, and for them to never contact me again. I want to never have to kill anyone else. I want enough money that I can safely live off of, and I want out.”

Teresa nodded. “That can be arranged.” She stood to the side. “Good luck.”

Slowly, Alby walked past her and into the common room.

He’d barely got through the door before Brenda dragged him over. “Alby! We were just talking about you!”

“You were?”

“Yeah!” She sat on a sofa and pulled Alby down beside her.

Most of the class were sitting close by, having been part of the conversation. The only people who weren’t were Newt and Thomas, who weren’t in the room, and Sonya and Harriet, who were sitting on their own on the other side of the room. Teresa walked over to join the larger group.

“We were wondering,” said Brenda, “why don’t you move in with Frypan now that Winston’s gone? That way we’d all be sharing and it’d be fairer.”

“As I’ve already said a million times,” said Frypan before Alby had even opened his mouth to respond, “he’s not moving in with me because I want the room to myself.”

Alby nodded in agreement. “I like the single, sorry.”

Minho shrugged. “I don’t think sharing’s all that bad.”

Brenda rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know, but I’d much prefer to have my own space.” Her eyes widened in horror and he whipped her head around towards Teresa. “No offense!”

Teresa giggled and shook her head. “None taken, I’m much the same. But if you’re patient then the rooms will start to empty out, and you can take your pick.”

Gally scoffed. “You sound awfully confident we’re gonna fail.”

Teresa shrugged. “It’s nothing personal,” she said. “It’s just that I’ve read up on previous Class As, and without exception they all lasted either a maximum of two weeks, or went on all year. It’s been more than two weeks already.”

Nobody said anything for a moment.

Then Brenda turned to Alby. “I call dibs on your room.”

Alby stood. He pointed across to where Sonya and Harriet were sitting.

“I’m going over there.”

Gally raised an eyebrow. “And be a third wheel?”

“I’m not going to be able to read in peace if you’re all squabbling over rooms, now am I? Those two will ignore me, which sounds perfect right about now.”

Brenda shrugged. “Okay, you can go.” She smiled up at him. “Good luck with your attempt.”

“Wait, he’s put his notice in?” asked Aris.

Brenda nodded. “There isn’t any other reason why Teresa would’ve cornered him like that.”

Minho gave an exaggerated shrug and leaned back. “I don’t know,” he said. “She might’ve become overwhelmed with affection for him, and simply _had_ to share her feelings.”

Teresa grabbed a cushion and threw it at Minho’s head.

Alby just stepped over Ben - who was sitting on the floor for some reason - and walked over to join Sonya and Harriet. They were calm. They were sane. He’d just sit here quietly and read something until he wanted to go to bed.

It didn’t matter they knew he’d given in his notice.

Nobody here was going to try to stop him.

 

It had been 24 hours already, and there hadn’t been another attempt.

Newt couldn’t even figure out who’d sent the notice. Nobody was acting any differently around him. If it weren’t for the fact that somebody had literally tried to blow him up yesterday, he’d be convinced that nothing was wrong. Now the time was half up, and there was nothing. No sign from anyone. He would’ve expected whoever it was to maybe start getting nervous, but no one seemed to be.

Either the person behind it was really calm, or was a really good actor.

Or they had a plan.

That was also possible.

Newt wasn’t sure how likely that would be though, considering they’d put a bomb in the dorm room yesterday, but it _was_ possible.

But even if the perpetrator wasn’t getting nervous, Newt certainly was. He’d almost prefer it if he was actually having to defend himself. At least them he’d know where he stood with everyone.

It couldn’t be Teresa, or Minho, or Aris, or Frypan. It couldn’t be Thomas.

It could be literally anyone else.

And nowhere was safe.

Their room, on their floor, was isolated and not secure. Which meant that - bombs aside - somebody could easily try to kill him in there.

So he and Thomas only spent a minute in there to grab some books, before practically setting up camp in the library.

WCKD Academy’s library was open all hours, and due to the tests that were being carried out for all the seniors the next week, was fairly busy. Newt and Thomas didn’t struggle to find a table to themselves, but there were people all around.

It was perfect.

Newt started working his way through a practise sheet of logarithms, while Thomas set about tidying up some of his history notes.

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on maths?” said Newt when he saw what Thomas was doing. “That’s the first test we’ve got next week.”

Thomas shrugged. “I get it, though. I haven’t gotten a math problem wrong in years. Don’t need to study it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Thomas pulled a notebook out of his bag and held it out to Newt. Newt flipped it open to see the truth of Thomas’ claim for himself.

Not one question had been answered incorrectly.

“Thomas, do you _really_ need to do the history notes right now?”

“It needs to happen before Monday, but it doesn’t have to be now,” he replied. “Why?”

“You understand this shit a lot better than I do. Help please?”

Thomas sighed, but there was a small smile on his face. He pushed his history notes towards the centre of the table and shifted so he was sitting closer to Newt. “Sure,” he said. “Talk me through what you’ve got so far.”

It took Newt’s brain a couple of seconds to catch up with Thomas’ request.

“Right! Yes! So, I wasn’t sure what to do next here.”

Focusing mostly on Thomas’ explanation of how maths worked - which was a million times better than Vince’s had been - Newt allowed a tiny part of himself to simply enjoy the fact that Thomas was sitting so close to him.

Which...

What?

This wasn’t happening. He was mixing up gratefulness, trust, and newfound friendship with romantic feelings. They were both guilty of a little bit of flirting, but it had all been a joke. It hadn’t meant anything. He needed to slam the brakes on this right the fuck now, before he got himself hurt.

Deep breaths.

_Focus._

As they worked through the sheet, Newt was able to do more and more of the questions on his own. They were finally starting to make sense!

When there were only a handful of problems left, Thomas asked if he’d be okay to try them without someone looking over his shoulder.

“I’ll give it a go,” he said in response. “Thank you.”

Thomas smiled, pulling his history notes back towards him. “No problem. Tell me if you get stuck, okay?”

“Will do.”

A question and a half later, Newt heard someone clearing their throat somewhere to his left.

“Excuse me?”

Newt looked up.

He didn’t recognise the girl who was stood by his table. She wasn’t part of Class A, and Newt didn’t think he’d seen her around school before.

“Yes?”

“What’s your name?” asked the girl. “Mine’s Lucy.”

Newt smiled politely. “Hi Lucy. I’m Newt.”

Lucy smiled back. “That’s a cute name.”

Newt shrugged. “It’s just a name.”

“No, I really like it!” She peered over at his work. “You’re a senior too, right? Got that math test next week?”

Newt nodded.

“I’m totally gonna fail it.” She laughed. “I’ve been studying and studying, but I’m just terrible at math. I bet you’re great at math.”

Newt shook his head. “Not really,” he said.

“No?” she said. “What subjects are you good at, then?”

Newt shrugged. He didn’t get why this girl was trying to talk to him. At the very least, she could learn to keep her voice down a bit. They were in the middle of the library, people were trying to work, and a quick glance around told Newt that people were sending irritated looks their way.

“Sorry, Lucy,” he said, “but I really need to focus on this right now.”

“Oh! Of course!” She laughed, and started curling the end of her hair around her finger. “But,” she picked up a pen from the table and bent over Newt’s notebook, writing something at the top of the page, “if you ever want to talk some more, then here’s my number.” She put the pen down and stood upright. “Okay.” She backed away. “Bye Newt!” she said, before practically running across the room, grabbing a bag (presumably hers), and leaving the library.

Newt could only stare after her.

What the fuck?

A small chuckle from Thomas next to him snapped him out of his shock.

“What?”

“Look at you!” Thomas grinned. “She was really pretty. You gonna go for it?”

Newt looked at the phone number that was scrawled across the top of the page. So that’s what she’d wanted. “No,” he said.

Thomas’ smile faded slightly. “Why not?” he asked. “She seems nice. And she’s safe. Spending more time with someone outside of Class A could be a good idea.”

“Yeah, but...” he trailed off.

He’d never had to come out before. His various guardians over the years had never known, and he’d never had any classmates or friends his own age that he could’ve shared this with even if he’d wanted to. So now he had a decision to make.

He was struck by how much he _wanted_ to tell Thomas.

Even though it was entirely possible that Thomas could retract his promise of protection on the spot.

If this went badly, what would he do?

Newt took a deep breath.

“I’m not going to call her because I’m gay.”

Newt searched Thomas for any sign of judgement. He found none, and was filled with relief.

“Yeah, okay, don’t call her then.” Thomas leaned back in his chair. “That wouldn’t be fair on either of you.”

Newt crossed out Lucy’s phone number with a single stroke of his pen. “No, it would not.”

“I’m bi.”

Newt snapped his head round to face Thomas.

Thomas shrugged, seeming completely nonchalant, and said, “You told me, so it’s only fair I tell you.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind people knowing about it.”

Newt looked down at his notebook. “I’ve never told anyone before.”

“I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.”

Newt nodded. “Please.”

He felt a weight rest on his shoulder, and looked up to see what it was.

It was Thomas’ hand.

“I promise.”

Newt smiled. “Thank you.”

Thomas took his hand back. “It’s nothing.”

They didn’t talk much for a while after that. Newt finished the maths sheet, and moved on to a different topic. Thankfully, it was one that he understood a lot more, so was able to get by without calling on Thomas for help. Thomas worked his way through his history notes, writing them up and making them more concise.

They passed for completely normal students.

Gradually, as it got later, the library emptied out. Newt and Thomas made no move to leave, and by 11pm they were the only ones in there.

“What are we gonna do?” asked Newt. “Are we staying here all night?”

Thomas sighed. “There’s no one here, so it wouldn’t be helpful.” He looked down at his notes. “But I’m kinda on a roll here.”

“Okay,” said Newt. “Finish up. I’ll read until you’re done, and then we’ll head back?”

Thomas nodded. “That’s probably our best option.”

Newt wasn’t happy that they’d be going back to their room, but with the library being empty, it was probably actually a safer place to be.

At quarter past, Thomas stood and stretched. “I need to look something up. I don’t know what I was doing when I wrote these the first time, but I’ve got this one thing happening on three different days.”

Newt laughed. “That could be a problem.”

“I’ll just be over there,” said Thomas, pointing across the room. “Be careful while I’m gone, okay?”

Newt nodded firmly. “Constant vigilance!”

Thomas furrowed his brow in confusion, then glanced down at the book Newt was reading. He sighed and shook his head. “Nerd.”

“Takes one to know one!”

Still shaking his head, Thomas walked away.

Newt returned to his book.

After a few minutes, he shifted in his seat, trying to get more comfortable, and accidently knocked an eraser off the table with his elbow.

Cursing himself, he put his notebook inside his book to mark the page he was at, and ducked under the table to look for it.

It took him slightly longer to find it than he’d be willing to admit.

But he found it!

Eraser in hand, he stood back up.

Alby was stood on the other side of the table.

Newt wasn’t sure how well he disguised how seeing Alby there had startled him. He hadn’t seen Alby come in, or heard him approach. Had he been in the library the whole time? Newt didn’t think so, but he supposed it was possible.

Newt put the eraser down, and smiled.

“Hey Alby,” he said. “Are you working late too?”

Alby shook his head.

“Oh,” said Newt. He took a small step backwards. “What are you doing here, then?”

Alby looked Newt in the eyes, with an expression that seemed sad.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Newt saw Alby’s hand move, and ducked back under the table. Somewhere among the shelves behind him came a large _BANG_ , followed by several smaller crashes.

Had Alby planted explosives among the shelves?

_BANG!_

Another one.

A lot closer than the first.

On impulse, Newt dove out from under that table. He looked back over his shoulder to see that a bookshelf had just fallen on it, crushing the table beneath it.

He’d only just made it out in time.

He pushed himself to his feet. If Alby was relying on pre-placed explosives, then surely he could just make a break for it? If he got out of the library then he’d be okay? Where was Thomas? Had Thomas been hurt? Which way was the exit?

He stood.

And came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

Oh.

_“ALBY!”_

Alby spun around toward the voice, taking the gun with him.

He fired.

“Don’t get in my way!”

Newt tried to back away, but tripped over a loose book, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Alby fired again.

Newt couldn’t see what he was shooting at, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

He grabbed the book nearest to him and threw it at Alby. Anticipating that Alby would turn on him, he then scrambled to the side.

Alby missed.

Something flew at Alby from his other side. Thomas!

Alby swung back around.

Newt threw another book.

Alby spun.

They went round like this a few times.

Then something clicked.

Alby was out of ammo.

He started fumbling in his pocket, gun still held outward towards where Newt assumed Thomas was standing.

There was so much smoke.

Newt threw another book at him, aiming for his hand.

Apparently, Thomas had had the same idea. Alby howled as the empty gun was knocked out of his hand by the book, at the same moment that a knife embedded itself in his wrist.

Newt darted forwards and grabbed the gun. He stood up and stumbled backwards. He felt himself collide with something, with another person.

With Thomas.

Thomas steadied him with an arm around his waist. “You okay?” he murmured.

“Uh huh. You?”

“Yeah.” He let Newt go and stepped forwards, holding another knife out ready to throw. “Stop or the next one’s going into your face.”

Alby pulled the knife that had gone into his wrist out. Newt knew he didn’t manage to hide his wince at the sight. That had to hurt, and definitely wasn’t a sensible thing to do. Blood started leaking from the wound, but Alby didn’t seem to care very much. He held the knife out in front of him with his other hand, ready to attack.

No, wait.

Upon closer inspection, he didn’t look like he was ready to attack at all. He was shaking like a leaf, he’d gone pale, and his eyes were wide and scared. And his dominant hand was out of commission.

Thomas moved to throw the knife.

Newt grabbed his arm. “No, stop!”

“What are you-”

“Look at him!”

Thomas did.

Alby didn’t move.

Slowly, Newt placed the gun back on the ground and kicked it somewhere behind him.

He stepped forwards.

“Why are you here, Alby?” He held out his hands placatingly. “What are you doing this for?”

Alby dropped the knife.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Newt glanced to the side to see that Thomas looked confused. He focused back on Alby. “Come again?”

“I want to quit. I don’t want to have to kill people anymore.”

“That’s ridiculous!” snapped Thomas. “You’re trying to kill someone, all so you don’t have to kill people? Surely you don’t need me to tell you how little sense that makes.”

“You don’t understand!” Alby sounded like he was close to tears. “The people I work for don’t let people leave. I need the Class A reward to have a chance!”

Newt took another small step forwards, so he was now standing just in front of Thomas. “Go to the cops.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Go to the cops. Be a bloody whistleblower and sell them all out. You can get witness protection, and you’ll be able to live a normal life. Be a buggin’ hero.”

Alby looked perplexed, and said nothing.

“Did that seriously never occur to you?” Newt asked incredulously.

Alby shook his head.

Newt stepped forwards again, feeling a bit safer than he had a few moments ago. “How about you go to the infirmary and get your wrist sorted, and then you can go do that. Sound good?”

Alby nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Newt shook his head. “It’s fine, I get it.”

“It’s not fine! I tried to-”

Newt attempted a smile. “You’re not the first, you won’t be the last. It’s okay.” He looked pointedly at Alby’s wrist. There was a lot of blood there now. “You _need_ to get that looked at!”

Alby left without another word.

 

“I have some unfortunate news.” Vince paused, making sure he had everyone’s attention before continuing. “I’ve been informed this morning that Alby’s had a family emergency, and has had to leave. He won’t be coming back.”

The kids’ reactions were a little... off.

He was expecting concern, or disappointment. And he supposed he did get that from Newt. He didn’t look happy at all to hear about Alby’s departure. But nobody else reacted like that.

Gally rolled his eyes. Brenda broke into a grin, before quickly schooling her face into a neutral expression. Aris didn’t even look up from his notebook.

“Am I missing something?” asked Vince.

“Is he okay?” asked Teresa, looking genuinely confused. “Is his family okay? Is there anything we can do to help?”

Vince nodded. “I haven’t been told any details, but he should be fine. If I become aware of anything that we can do, I’ll pass the message along.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“However,” said Vince, addressing the whole class, “Alby leaving means that we’re now without a Class Representative in the School Council. Is there anyone who particularly wants the role?”

One hand shot into the air.

“Is everyone okay with it being Newt?”

The class murmured their assent.

“Excellent. Newt, I’ll talk to you after class about your new responsibilities.” Vince glanced at his computer screen, at an email he’d received that morning. “There’s another thing I need to mention. The library was vandalised last night, and will be closed until further notice. If anyone knows anything about what happened, or about who could be behind it, please either tell me or another member of staff. The culprit must be found so that things like this can be avoided in the future.”

 

Thomas waited outside the classroom for Newt to be done with his briefing.

“Why did you do that?” he asked once Newt had emerged.

“Do what?”

“Say you’d be the rep? Why? It’s just extra work for you.”

Newt nodded. “True, but when I’m at meetings, or carrying out any of the duties, I can’t be targeted because I’ll be surrounded by other people. And it means I’ll talk to people outside of Class A, which there isn’t really a downside to.”

“Oh,” said Thomas. “That’s actually smart.”

Newt laughed. “Yup! I’m not just a pretty face.”

Thomas could agree that his face _was_ very pretty. His smile always made Thomas feel warm inside. Even the mark from where Winston had cut Newt’s cheek, which could probably be called a scar by now, didn’t detract from the effect. If anything, that scar just-

Thomas coughed.

“Has anyone asked you about the scar?”

Newt brought his hand up to feel it. “Vince asked when I still had the bandage on it. I said I fell. He believed me.” He shrugged. “Can’t help but he grateful he didn’t get my forehead, because you _know_ that people would’ve started calling me Harry Potter.”

“You’re blond,” Thomas offered.

“I’m also British,” Newt countered.

“Fair point,” said Thomas. “Good thing the scar’s on your cheek then.” He gently elbowed Newt’s side. “It makes you look like a badass.”

“Thanks, but you’re the badass around here.”

“We can _both_ be badasses, thank you very much.”

Newt laughed again.

Thomas wanted him to keep laughing forever.

They passed by the doors to the library.

As Vince had said that morning, it was closed.

Thomas didn’t envy the poor people who’d been tasked with cleaning all that up. When they’d left the night before, they’d grabbed their stuff and all the weapons they could find, but the room inside had looked... well...

For lack of a better term, it had looked like a bomb had gone off in there.

Which it had. Two, in fact.

Newt stopped a few paces down the hall.

“Do you think they’d accept help?”

“Huh?” said Thomas, turning to look at him.

Newt pointed towards the library doors. “Cleaning that up. Do you think they’d accept help?”

“I don’t know,” said Thomas. “This school’s full of rich kids who’ve never worked a day in their life, so they probably aren’t expecting anyone to offer.”

“I’m going to help.”

Thomas sighed. “Of course you are. I _guess_ I’ll join you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Reckon we could get the others to join in?” asked Thomas, ignoring Newt’s protest.

Newt hummed in thought. “It’s worth a try.”

Thomas nodded. He glanced back towards the library doors, and something occurred to him. “Newt?”

“Yeah?”

“You told Alby to go to the police.”

Newt nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

“Why don’t _you_ do that?”

Newt’s smile turned sad, and Thomas hated the sight. “The people who put me here pretty much own the police. Even if I got lucky, and spoke to someone who didn’t answer directly to one of them, it wouldn’t be long until I got found out. They can’t help me.”

Thomas shook his head. “That fucking sucks, man.”

Newt sighed, and started to walk away. “Yeah,” he said. “It does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case it wasn't clear from the chapter itself, alby grew up in a place that trained children without family to be assassins. he hated it there


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _kicks down door_ what is UP everybody? how've you all been??
> 
> i'm now officially out of pre-written stuff and cannot guarantee anything about when i'll next update but i'm NOT DEAD and you can absolutely feel free to bug me on tumblr to write more
> 
> feel free to tell me if you spot any errors !!! i didn't proofread this all that closely

Brenda did exactly as she’d said she would.

That very evening, she enlisted Teresa’s help to move all of her things into room 7.

“How the fuck do you have so much stuff?”

Brenda peered over the pile of clothes in her arms to look at Teresa, who was holding another pile. “I genuinely do not know.”

“How much did you bring?”

“Not more than anyone else! It must’ve been multiplying behind my back, it’s the only explanation.”

They reached room 7 and dumped the piles onto the bed.

“Okay,” said Brenda. “New plan. We pack my things back up, bring the bags in here, and then I can unpack them again.”

“It took you two weeks to unpack in the first place.”

“But I’ll actually do it this time!”

They were interrupted by someone knocking on the open door.

“What’s going on?” asked Minho

“I’m moving in,” said Brenda.

“But she has too much stuff,” said Teresa.

“Want any help?”

The girls nodded.

Three people working together were able to get it done a lot faster than just two of them would have. When they were about halfway through, Aris showed up and offered to help as well, but Teresa gave him some money and instructed him to get them something to drink from the vending machines downstairs. He returned with colas for them all, then joined in with moving the last few things across.

When they were done, Brenda’s new room looked much better and more organised than her one shared with Teresa had been. It even looked better than her room at home!

She knew it wasn’t going to last. She’d never been able to keep her room tidy.

“Thanks guys!” she said.

“No problem,” said Teresa. “Now I don’t have to put up with your snoring.”

“I don’t snore!”

Teresa laughed.

“Now you’ve got such a cool room, are you gonna hide out in here from now on?” asked Minho, a teasing tone to his voice. “Or are you still willing to associate with those of us who are less fortunate?”

Brenda rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to abandon you, don’t worry.”

“Great!”

  


“I think we should have a groupchat.”

Gally snapped his head up from his phone to stare at Ben. He wasn’t alone in that. Everyone else in the common room, the whole class, stopped whatever it was that they were doing or saying to stare at him.

“What?” said Ben.

“A groupchat?” repeated Harriet. “What would we need a groupchat for?”

“No, actually, that’s a good idea!” said Teresa. “That way if there’s an announcement it can be put there, so we can all be up to date easier.” She gave an embarrassed smile. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier.”

“What if there’s an announcement that doesn’t apply to someone?” asked Frypan.

“Just create two groups,” said Newt. “One with me, and one without.”

No one said anything for a moment.

“What?” Newt shook his head. “We all know he meant me. Pretending he didn’t would just be a waste of time”

“So you’re in favour of having a groupchat?” asked Teresa.

Newt nodded.

Thomas shrugged. “It’s probably a good idea.”

“Groupchats are annoying!” Gally snapped. “If you slintheads decide to make a one, then I don’t want any part of it.”

“Neither do I,” said Harriet.

Sonya immediately turned to face her. “C’mon, it’ll be fun! You might find it easier to talk to people if it’s not face to face.”

“I don’t find it _difficult_ to talk to people. I don’t _want_ to talk to people. There’s a difference.”

“You don’t mind talking to me!”

Harriet paused, then looked away. “Yeah, but you’re you.”

Gally was distracted from their conversation by the feeling of someone tugging on his arm.

“What Sonya said,” said Ben. “You should join us! You might even enjoy talking to everyone.”

Gally scowled.

“So,” said Teresa, “all those in favour of a groupchat, put your hands up.”

Gally watched in dismay as Harriet proved herself to be the only other sane person in the room.

“Great!” said Teresa. “I’ll set it up now.”

Gally turned and glared at Ben, who was entirely unapologetic.

“If you really hate it, you can just mute the group and ignore it.”

“We’re at a boarding school. We’re together all the time. We don’t need a groupchat!”

“Like Teresa said, it’ll probably be used mostly for announcements. And it’s a good way to be able to share links to things with everyone.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Because,” said Ben, gesturing around the room, “we’re all here, we might as well be friends.”

“I distinctly remember you telling me that you didn’t want to be friends with Teresa.”

Ben’s smile faded. “That’s specifically because of something she did. I haven’t got a problem with anyone else, and I can be civil in a group.”

Gally’s phone buzzed, telling him that he’d been added to the group: _Class A(mazing)._ He swiped to get rid of the notification, sighed, and looked back up at Ben.

“If this goes terribly, I’ll remember it was your fault.”

Ben laughed. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Giving up on the stern act, Gally gave an exaggerated shrug. “I’ll think of something!”

“Okay,” said Ben, smile still on his face. “You do that.”

He clearly didn’t believe him.

Gally wasn’t so sure that he minded.

  


They’d settled into a routine.

Thomas and Newt were polite to their classmates. In fact, they were often friendly - though that was usually Newt rather than Thomas. But they mostly kept their distance. They didn’t join many large discussions, either in person or in the groupchat, and they didn’t sit with anyone else during meals.

So Thomas was surprised when, one lunchtime, Minho sat at their table instead of with his friends.

“What are you doing?”

“Is that really how you say hello?” Minho laughed.

Newt reached the table with his own food and did a double take. “Uh, hi Minho.”

Minho grinned at him as he sat. “Hey there, Newt.”

“What do you want?” said Thomas.

Minho held his hands up in surrender. “I just want to talk, man.” He relaxed his arms, and picked up a fry. “I know I haven’t talked to you guys all that much, but I was really hoping that I could change that. You seem cool. Why not come sit with us for a change?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Do we look like morons to you?”

Minho shook his head. “Not at all! I get it, but honestly, if you haven’t been given a notice then you’re completely safe, so there’s no point in isolating yourself.”

“Those people are specifically here to kill Newt. Why on Earth would we want to spend more time with them than we absolutely have to?”

“Thomas, I-”

“Technically, so are you,” Minho said, cutting Newt’s protest off. “But actually, you’re wrong about that.” He turned towards Newt. “I’m not going to try to kill you. I figured you should probably know.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Thomas.

Minho shrugged. “Newt’s not my target.”

“He’s _the_ target.”

“Yeah,” said Minho, “but he’s not _my_ target.”

“Then why are you even here?”

“I received word that The Partner of the Icers was participating. That’s who I’m here for.”

Thomas froze.

The Icers were an elite group of cold-blooded killers. Everyone in the assassin community knew about them. They were famous to those in the know. They were often used for politically motivated hits, and were paid handsomely for their trouble. They never left any useable  evidence. They never got caught. Their targets never got away.

The Partner was a name that had sprung up in recent years. Whoever they were, they were good. They were personally responsible for the deaths of a number of young people who’d shown signs of making life difficult for certain establishments. Thomas hadn’t realised that they were probably young themself, but wasn’t surprised at the suggestion. A child would have a better chance of getting close to a child than a random adult would, after all.

If they were here, if they were a part of Class A, then keeping Newt alive would be even more difficult that Thomas had predicted.

_If._

“Say that’s true, and you really aren’t going to target Newt,” said Thomas, “there’s still everybody else to worry about.”

Minho glanced over his shoulder towards his normal table. “You’re not wrong there, but I don’t know, I’m getting the impression from those guys that their decisions to be here aren’t a hundred percent their own, you know? That goes for everyone, actually. I don’t think anyone in Class A is actually here completely of their own free will. We’ve all got people or shitty situations forcing us to be here.”

Thomas stared Minho down. “Winston.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Minho. “Fuck that guy. Everyone else, though, I’m right about.”

“Minho?” said Thomas. “Go away.”

Minho nodded. He stood, taking his plate in his hand. He looked towards Newt. “I’m serious, though. You’re not my target. I’m pretty sure by now that you can trust Thomas not to kill you, and I know you can trust me. I promise.”

Thomas watched Minho walk away.

Next to him, Newt sighed. “You didn’t have to be like that. He seemed genuine to me.”

“Yeah,” said Thomas, “he did. And acting is one of the key skills that assassins use. He could’ve easily been lying in order to get you close enough to kill. It’s not worth the risk.”

“I know,” said Newt. “But I can’t help but believe him.”

  


Autumn was creeping in.

Leaves were turning orange and falling to the ground. The temperature was gradually getting cooler. Coffee shops in town were starting to advertise their hot drinks more prominently.

Newt loved it.

It was still warm enough to sit outside. Newt was determined to make the most of it while he still could. The common room was nice and all, but nothing beat sitting in the school gardens, and being surrounded by all that beauty as he read or did homework.

(He never ventured into the greenhouse. He hated that such a wonderful place had been ruined for him.)

One Saturday, he and Thomas were lying next to each other in the grass under a tree near the school gardens when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Putting his book aside, Newt pulled his phone out to look at who was trying to contract him.

 

**Class A(mazing)**

**Teresa:** _@Thomas @Newt_ everyone else already knows bc they’re here in the common room, but my friend miyoko in the main school is throwing a halloween party and we’re all free to go along, including you two

 

“Hey, Thomas,” said Newt.

“Mmfh?” came Thomas’ response.

Newt hadn’t been completely expecting him to be awake. Thomas had spent the last 40ish minutes silent with his eyes shut. But him being awake meant that they could discuss this now.

“Teresa’s just sent a message to the group. A friend of hers is having a Halloween party.”

Thomas turned his head on it’s side so it was facing Newt and opened his eyes. “So?”

“So everyone’s invited.”

Thomas hummed in thought. “Risky.”

“Everything I do is a risk while I’m here.”

“You want to go?”

Newt nodded. “I’ve never been to a proper party before. It should be fun.”

“Or you’ll get yourself killed.” Thomas yawned and blinked a few times. “Parties aren’t that amazing, anyway. You can have plenty of fun without loud music and alcohol.”

Newt glanced down at his phone again. It still had the group open.

 

**Minho:** it’s fancy dress!! you guys haaaaaaave to come!!

**Sonya:** I’ve spoken to Miyoko a couple of times, she’s nice

**Teresa:** @everyone please keep all rules in mind at all times

**Minho:** ^^

**Gally:** just because you don’t want your friend’s party ruined.....

**Teresa:** i /don’t/ want it ruined. but the rules are also important

 

Newt held his phone in front of his face so that Thomas could read the screen. “I will be safe at the party. It’ll be crowded with normal kids. No attempts allowed.”

A few seconds passed.

“Fine,” said Thomas.

Newt grinned. “Thank you! You coming too?”

Thomas smiled weakly, though Newt was sure that it was more from sleepiness than reluctance. “Definitely.”

 

**Newt:** Count us in!!!

  


Minho had an idea.

He knew that it didn’t really matter if Thomas didn’t believe him. He was under no obligation to, and he was actually being sensible by not doing so. Thomas was trying to keep Newt alive. Not trusting anyone who could potentially threaten that was definitely the right call.

But it was frustrating.

Minho genuinely didn’t mean Newt any harm. And what interactions he’d had with Newt had proved that they got along.

If Minho could just make them believe that he wasn’t going to hurt him, they could actually be friends!

Which led to his idea.

“You shouldn’t do it,” said Aris, when Minho told him what he was thinking.

“Why not?”

“Because what if you need it?”

“I’m not going to.”

Aris looked conflicted. “What if he still doesn’t believe you? What if he thinks you’re trying to give it to Newt, and attacks you?”

Minho shrugged. “I’ll just have to talk fast and hope for the best.”

Ignoring Aris’ further protests, Minho left the room. He crossed the hall and stood at the door of room 1.

(Aris’ concern was appreciated, but Minho didn’t think that this could end up going as badly wrong as Aris seemed to think it could.)

He knocked.

A few seconds passed before the door opened.

For a moment, Thomas looked confused. Then his expression became more guarded, as if he was expecting an attack.

“Yes?”

“This isn’t for Newt,” said Minho. “It’s for you.”

He held out his advance notice.

Thomas looked at it, but made no move to take it. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because this is the only thing I can think of that’ll prove I was telling the truth. I can’t give him the notice if you’ve got it, can I?”

Slowly, Thomas took the card out of Minho’s hands. “No,” he said. “You can’t.”

“See?” said Minho. “I have absolutely no interest in killing Newt, or in the reward. You can burn that for all I care. I’m never going to want it back.”

Thomas looked down at the card. “You’re sure?”

_“Yes!”_ Minho took a deep breath. He needed not to get too annoyed with him, he was just being careful. “So can you stop treating me like an enemy now?”

Thomas nodded, a small smile making its way onto his face. “That sounds fair to me.”

“What’s going on?” came a voice from further inside the room.

Thomas pushed the door open further and gestured for Minho to come in. As he did, Newt, who’d been lying across the sofa, sat upright.

“Oh, hi Minho! What are you...?” he trailed off, but the question was evident in his voice.

“I’ve given my notice to Thomas. It’s no longer possible for me to give it to you, even if for some reason I decided I wanted to. I’m not going to try to kill you.”

Newt frowned. “Are you gonna get expelled for that?”

Minho shook his head. “I shouldn’t do. There’s nothing in the rules against stealing someone else’s notice, so this should be fine as well.”

Newt’s look of concern gave way to a giant smile. “Thank you,” he said.

Minho sighed. “What the shuck have our lives become that me saying that I’m not gonna kill you is worth you thanking me?”

Newt shrugged. “We’re in a big murder game. It comes with the territory.”

“True.”

“Do you know if any of the others are planning anything?” asked Thomas.

Minho shook his head. “Nobody’s planning anything that I know about. It’s possible that someone _is_ , and are just keeping quiet about it, but I don’t think so. You’re probably okay for now.”

“Okay,” said Thomas. “That’s good to know.”

  


Never in her life did Harriet think she’d ever end up somewhere like here.

She’d arrived in Class A with nothing more than the clothes on her back. She’d been handed a small but not insignificant amount of cash by one of the school officials, and had been told to buy whatever she needed.

For the first time in a long time, she’d been able to have clothes, stationary, and a phone that belonged to her. For the first time in a long time, she was getting to go to school. For the first time in a long time, she had her own fucking bed.

It was a good thing that her roommate had arrived so late. It meant that Harriet had been free to break down crying, that first night here.

It had been a lot to take in.

And then Sonya had arrived.

Harriet was used to sleeping near other people. She was especially used to sleeping near people that she knew she couldn’t trust.

But Sonya was different.

Harriet had been suspicious of her at first. Why wouldn’t she be? This girl had arrived so much later than everyone else, only just in time for the orientation meeting, yet had been so smiley and friendly that she’d nearly fooled Harriet into thinking that this was normal.

Since then, Sonya had personally made sure that Harriet wasn’t isolating herself from everyone else. She hadn’t forced her to talk to them or join in with anything. But she _had_ been gently coaxing Harriet into sitting in the common room, and had been making a point of asking for Harriet’s opinion during group discussions.

She was making an effort. She knew _nothing_ about Harriet, but was making an effort anyway.

Harriet had no idea how she was supposed to react to this sort of treatment.

It was definitely the kindest that anyone had ever been to her.

Sonya herself chatted freely to Harriet about all sorts of things. Harriet knew all about Sonya’s favourite foods, her opinions on a host of celebrities, tv shows, and movies, and her general thoughts on the people around her. But Harriet could tell that Sonya wasn’t entirely honest about some things.

Like her family, for instance. She never brought it up on her own, and answered in the vaguest possible terms when asked about it. She even been reluctant to tell Harriet her full name.

_ (“Why do you want to know?” _

_ “I want to save everyone’s numbers with their full names.” _

_ “Can’t you just leave it as ‘Sonya’?” _

_ “You’d be the odd one out and it would really bug me.” _

_ “Fine. It’s Ross.” _

_ “Isn’t that the same as-” _

_ “How should I know?”) _

But Harriet didn’t mind any of this. Sonya was entitled to her secrets. They all were. It wasn’t like Harriet had volunteered much in the way of information about what _her_ life had been like before Class A. If Sonya didn’t want to talk about her family, then fine. Harriet wouldn’t push.

And despite this, Harriet felt like she could trust Sonya. That Sonya was her friend.

When she was feeling particularly honest, she even admitted to herself that she had a bit of a crush on her.

Or a lot of a crush.

She realised that letting Sonya in like this could blow up spectacularly, but it didn’t make a difference. Sonya had earned her trust simply by being so good to her. If it was going to go wrong, Harriet was prepared to accept the consequences.

Whatever those consequences were.

Harriet wasn’t usually one for parties. To be more accurate, as far as she _knew_ , she wasn’t one for parties. She’d never been to one that wasn’t just a cover for drug deals, prostitution, violence, or some combination of the three, so she didn’t have much experience of a normal one.

But seeing Sonya’s eyes light up at the prospect of going to this party made Harriet feel just a little bit excited too.

And Sonya wanted to be prepared.

Which was how Harriet had found herself in this specific situation.

Nearly all of Sonya’s clothes were strewn across their room. Harriet was sitting on the only untouched area - her own bed - while Sonya grabbed item after item, matching them, trying them on, trying to see what she could come up with.

“What do you think of this skirt?” she said, gesturing to what she’d just put on.

The skirt in question was mainly black, but beneath the outer fabric was a deep red petticoat.

“I think it looks pretty cool.” Harriet paused. “What are you actually planning on dressing up as?”

“I’m thinking I’ll be a witch. Or possibly a vampire,” said Sonya. She pulled her t-shirt off and scanned the floor, looking for something. “I know I’ve got it somewhere.”

Harriet tried her hardest not to stare. “Got what?”

“I should have a black top that looks a bit like a corset, but isn’t one. Can you see it?”

Harriet tore her eyes away from her not-quite-dressed friend and looked around. She spotted it within a few seconds, reached over the edge of her bed, and grabbed it.

“Was this it?”

Sonya turned to look. “Yes! Thank you!” She grabbed the top and put it on, standing up as she did so. “How does this look?”

Harriet thought for a moment, looking her over and taking in the full outfit. “I think you look great,” she said.

Sonya rolled her eyes and smiled. “And how does the _outfit_ look?”

“I just said-”

“You said _I_ looked great. I’m asking about the outfit.”

Harriet raised an eyebrow. “Confident, aren’t you?”

“I’ve just been paying attention.”

Harriet smiled. “It’s good.”

Sonya bit her lip in thought, before taking the top back off. “I’m not feeling it.”

“The party’s in a week and a half,” said Harriet. “It’s not urgent.”

“If I need to go out and get anything, I want to know with plenty of time to spare, just in case.” Sonya grabbed another black item off the floor and put it on.

It was a plain, long-sleeved top. It clung to her, and made it look like she was wearing a dress, not a top and skirt.

She was breathtaking.

Harriet nodded her approval, not trusting herself to speak.

Sonya turned and looked in the mirror. “Okay, yes,” she said. “Definitely vampire. I just need lipstick and nail polish that matches the petticoat, and I’ll be all set!”

“Maybe a really pale powder as well?”

Sonya laughed. “Don’t need it.” She pointed at her face. “I’m pale enough as it is. I make a very convincing vampire just generally.”

Harriet shook her head. “I don’t think so. You’re practically glowing right now. You’d need the powder to look less alive.”

Sonya’s eyes widened in surprise.

Harriet wished her mouth wouldn’t just say things without permission like that.

“You’re biased,” Sonya eventually said. “But okay, I’ll find something that can make me look paler than I already am.” She started picking up the clothes nearest to her. “So,” she said, “what are you dressing up as?”

“I wasn’t really planning on it.”

Sonya dropped what she was holding onto her bed and spun to face Harriet, a look of shock on her face. “You can’t be serious.”

Harriet shrugged. “I don’t have anything that would work. I’ve only got about five different outfits.”

Sonya’s expression morphed into one of horror. “That needs to change. You need more outfits, and you _can’t_ be the only one at a fancy dress party who isn’t in costume.”

Harriet flopped backwards so she was lying down. “It’s fine. I don’t have the money to go shopping, anyway.”

“I’ll pay.”

Harriet sat straight back upright and fixed Sonya with the sternest glare she could manage. “Don’t you dare.”

“Harri,” said Sonya, “my family could pay to send me here as a normal student five times over at least. I’ve been given more money than I know what to do with. Let me spend it on you.”

“I don’t think you understand how much I can’t let you do that.”

Sonya sat on the edge of her bed and looked at Harriet, a serious expression on her face. “I’m taking you shopping and that’s that. You won’t owe me anything after, so if that’s what you’re worried about, then don’t.”

Harriet broke eye contact and stared at the ground. “It’s your money,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be spending it on yourself, rather than me?”

Sonya laughed. Harriet looked up, confused, to see that Sonya appeared to be genuinely amused.

“But I _will_ be spending it on me. I’ll get to see you happy, and in lots of cool new things. We both win.” She winked, and took Harriet’s hand in her own. “So, what would you like to dress up as?”

Harriet opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

She was _so fucked._

Which Sonya seemed to be fully aware of.

And if Sonya didn’t feel the same, then she’d have let Harriet down already, right?

  


Thomas wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, but he and Newt managed to get roped into a game of Uno with a few of the others. Specifically, with Minho, Aris, Ben, and Gally.

It almost sounded like a set up to a bad joke. Five assassins and their target were playing cards.

Except it was four assassins, their target, and a bodyguard.

Except it was three assassins, their target, a bodyguard, and a neutral party.

Yeah, it kinda fell apart when examined in any way. But Thomas supposed that it _could_ work as the set up to a _really_ bad joke.

He kept this thought to himself. He didn’t think that any of the others would appreciate it.

“I’m fairly certain this counts as bullying,” said Minho, after three stacked draw-four cards meant that he had to pick up 12.

“I’m fairly certain this counts playing the game,” Gally shot back. He was sitting next to Minho, and was the one who’d put down the third card.

Aris, who was sitting on Minho’s other side, wordlessly placed a card to reverse the direction.

Minho laughed. “Thanks Aris!” He put down a draw-four card of his own, that he must’ve only just drawn from the deck. “Sucks to be you, Gally!”

Gally scowled and picked up the cards.

“What was the colour?” asked Ben.

“Uh...” Minho looked at his cards. “Blue.”

“Nice,” said Ben, placing a card down.

Thomas drew a card from the deck.

“Have any of you done the English homework yet?” asked Newt as he put a card on the pile.

“Ugh,” said Minho, shuddering. “Don’t remind me.”

Newt laughed. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Yeah, it’s a no.”

“I’ve done it,” said Gally.

“We worked on it together,” said Ben.

Thomas frowned. “But you need to have your own work to hand in?”

Gally rolled his eyes. “Do you think we’re idiots? Of course we know that!”

Ben quickly played his turn. “We had to write two paragraphs on chapter three, right? We planned out four together, then chose two each.”

“Why would you do that?” asked Minho. “That sounds like you put way more effort in than you needed to.”

Ben shrugged. “Probably, but it means that we both have a more in depth understanding of that chapter, and how to talk about it.” He smiled. “Plus it helps improve your ability to collaborate with others, because you have to listen to each other.”

“Uno,” said Newt.

Minho raised his eyebrows. “And you were able to do it? With _him?”_

“I’m sitting right here, you know.”

Ben laughed. “Yes, we worked together fine.”

“Never mind that,” said Aris. “You’re taking the work seriously? Why?”

“Because this is still a school,” said Ben. “We’re still supposed to be getting an education. Some of us need to think hard about what we’re gonna do in the future.”

“Because the ability to write essays about the symbolism of colour is going to be so helpful to you?”

“Aris,” said Minho, a warning in his voice.

“I’m not trying to be rude!” Aris said. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“It’s okay,” said Ben. “You’re probably right about it not being a very practical skill. But who knows what the future will hold?”

He reversed the direction of play. Thomas tried not to be too annoyed that he wasn’t able to take his go.

Gally sighed and picked up a card. “Let’s play with the jump-in rule next time.”

“What’s that?” asked Newt.

“You see how Minho just put down a red seven?” said Gally, pointing to the middle. “Well, if you also had a red seven, you could put that card down, and then play would continue as if it had been your go, effectively skipping Aris’.” He shrugged. “It makes the game more exciting.”

Aris put down a blue seven. “Or,” he said stiffly, “we could just play it normally, seeing as that’s working fine for us so far.”

Minho put a hand on Aris’ shoulder. “He was just using you as an example, it’s okay.”

Aris relaxed slightly. “Okay,” he said.

Newt watched the group for a second, before putting his last card down, a smile on his face. The card was blue. “I win!”

“Well done!” said Minho.

“Are we playing again?” asked Thomas.

“I don’t know,” said Ben, a small smile on his face. “I’m half tempted to force you guys to do your homework.”

Minho made a dismissive gesture. “We’ll get it done in time, it’s fine.”

“Could we work on ours together?” Newt asked Thomas.

Thomas shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Minho paused for a second, turned towards Aris, and had just opened his mouth to say something when the door to the common room slammed open.

The six boys turned to see what was going on.

Sonya was standing in the doorway, with Harriet stood just behind her.

“We’re heading into town to get stuff for Miyoko’s party. Does anybody else want to come along?”

  


It ended up becoming a whole class trip. Everyone went along.

_Everyone._

It turned out that Halloween costumes hadn’t been a high priority when people had packed for their time in Class A.

Packing a costume simply hadn’t occurred to Newt. It wasn’t that he’d thought that he wouldn’t survive to see the end of October. He was determined to make it through the entire year. He was going to live. He was going to make it. It wasn’t up for debate.

He’d just forgotten about Halloween when packing his bags before the school year started.

They all piled into the first costume store they came across. The sales assistants looked slightly alarmed to see a group of 11 teenagers arrive at once and immediately spread out through the store. Newt didn’t blame them. He knew that he’d probably be concerned, if he was in their position.

“Hey, Newt!”

It wasn’t Thomas’ voice. Thomas didn’t need to stick as close to him as usual, because they weren’t on school grounds. Even if he _had_ received a notice within the last 24 hours, no attempts on his life would be allowed, so it was safe for them to split up.

He wasn’t sure why it bothered him. Throughout his whole life, he’d always got annoyed really quickly if someone was constantly nearby and looking over his shoulder. He needed privacy. He needed time alone. But, for some reason, he didn’t get frustrated about Thomas’ constant presence. And now they weren’t in each other’s line of sight, he missed him.

Which was ridiculous. Thomas was, at furthest, a few aisles away. They were still in the same bloody room.

Maybe it was because of what Thomas had come to represent? If Thomas was next to him, then Newt wasn’t about to get killed. It wasn’t that Newt couldn’t look after himself. He could. But Thomas provided an extra line of defense. Thomas meant safety.

Maybe it was habit? He’d got used to having Thomas around all the time, so him not being there just felt strange because of that?

Maybe it was the tiny crush that he was desperately hoping would fade?

Maybe it was a mixture of all three.

“Newt, come look at this!”

Newt tried to actually focus on the voice this time, instead of letting his mind go off on a tangent about how it wasn’t Thomas. He looked around, searching for the person who’d spoken.

It was Minho.

Minho had found the wigs.

The one he was wearing was short, spiky, and a very bright pink. Minho was grinning, beckoning Newt over.

“What do you think?” he asked as Newt approached.

Minho’s joy was infectious, and Newt couldn’t help but start smiling himself. “It’s bright,” he said.

“But does it look _good_?”

“I think that depends on your definition of good,” said Newt. “I like it though.”

Minho turned to look at himself in the mirror that was attached to the shelves. “I think you’re right,” he said. “About both those points.”

“You getting it?”

“I’m tempted.” He sighed. “But how would I work it into a costume?”

“Can you think of any fictional characters with pink hair?” asked Newt.

Minho started to shake his head, but froze. “I can,” he said.

“And is it a character you’d be willing to dress up as?”

Minho’s grin reappeared. It was even bigger than before, and Newt wasn’t entirely sure how that was possible. “Definitely!”

“There you go,” said Newt. “Decision made!”

“Minho, there you are!” Aris walked towards them, having only just seen them.

He shot Newt a look that Newt didn’t entirely understand, but he took a few steps back from Minho just in case it was what he thought it could be.

“Aris!” said Minho, apparently oblivious to the almost-interaction that had occurred in front of him. “What do you think of my new hair?”

Aris didn’t miss a beat. “It looks great.”

Minho pointed at him. “That is the correct answer!”

“You’re getting it then?” asked Aris.

“You bet’cha!”

Newt looked over the selection of wigs himself. There was a wide variety, of all sorts of lengths and colours. None of them seemed to jump out at him, though.

“You should go as a dragon,” said Minho.

Newt turned back to face him. “Sorry?”

Minho repeated himself.

“Why?”

Newt didn’t hate that idea. Dragons were cool. They were fierce, and awesome, and people who fucked with them tended to end up dead. They were firmly in charge of their own destiny, and were never victims. Even in stories where they ended up dead at the end, they were never victims.

“Because they’re lizards,” came Minho’s response.

Newt rolled his eyes. He probably should’ve seen that one coming.

“Newts are salamanders, actually.”

Minho laughed. “I’m guessing you’ve heard that one before?”

“All the time, when I was six.”

He’d actually only heard it once or twice from his classmates. But his sister, Lizzy, had never shut up about it. Newt and Lizzy, the lizard siblings. She’d loved it so much.

“It’s nice to know that my humour is of the highest calibre.”

Newt grinned, pushing the bittersweet memories aside. “I do actually like the dragon idea, though. Thanks!”

Minho gave a small bow. “Glad to have been of service.” He turned towards Aris. “What are you thinking of dressing up as?”

Aris shrugged. “No idea.”

Newt thought for a moment, then said, “You could be a mad scientist?”

“I think Teresa’s already going as that,” said Aris.

“You could go find Teresa and coordinate your outfits?” suggested Newt. “Be mad scientists together?”

“Be a mad scientist duo!” Minho chimed in.

Aris shook his head. “If I’m going to be a duo with anyone, I don’t think I’d want to be with Teresa.”

“Oh,” said Minho. “Who’d you want to be with?”

Aris went to say something, but stopped himself.

Newt became certain about what Aris’ earlier unreadable look had been about.

“I’m gonna go see if I can find stuff for a dragon costume,” he said. “Good luck with finding stuff for yours.”

He turned and walked in a random direction.

A few aisles down, he found the face paint and costume makeup.

Harriet and Sonya were looking it over. Sonya was holding a plastic bag, that had something black and red stuffed inside. She was picking up various things and holding them up against the thing inside the bag.

“It’s no good,” she said. “We’ll have to go somewhere else. We’re not gonna find it here.”

“It was worth a shot,” said Harriet.

“Yeah,” agreed Sonya. 

“What are you looking for?” asked Newt as he scanned the shelf to see what they had available.

She sighed. “I’m looking for a matte lipstick that’ll match this skirt,” she said, gesturing to the thing inside her bag. “Costume ones are usually cheaper than branded ones, but none of the reds here are the right shade. They’re too bright.”

Newt spotted a large palette of face-paint and picked it up. “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” said Sonya. “It does.” She shrugged. “Oh well, I already knew I wasn’t gonna find the nail polish here, so it’s no biggie.” She turned back to Harriet. “Did you decide what you wanna be yet?”

Harriet shook her head.

Sonya grinned. “Does that mean I can pick for you?”

“You might as well.”

Sonya looked like she was about to literally jump for joy.

Newt decided to leave them to it.

  


“Did you seriously just buy a pair of Mickey Mouse ears?”

Brenda nodded, hooking the bag containing the ears on her arm. “I’ve already got a black t-shirt, and I know for a fact that Teresa has some red shorts I can borrow. That’s my costume sorted.”

Gally shook his head in disbelief.

“What?” asked Brenda, grin on her face. “Were you expecting something else?”

“A little more effort, perhaps.”

Brenda laughed. “Halloween’s about dressing up and having fun, not necessarily how much effort you go into. All Fry needs to get for _his_ costume is silver spray-in hair dye or something.”

Gally spun to face him. “What do you need _that_ for?”

Frypan rolled his eyes. “Thanks Brenda.”

“Sorry!” she said.

Ben held a hand up to his face, trying and failing to hide his laughter.

“Come on!” Gally said. “What is it?”

Frypan sighed, but smiled. “I’m planning to be Gordon Ramsay.”

Silence, broken only by the sound of Ben’s stifled giggles.

“Man,” said Gally, after a few seconds of this had passed, “what the fuck?”

“I’ve already got clothes really similar to his,” said Frypan, “so why not?”

“Really, though?” said Gally, sounding like he didn’t quite believe it. “Gordon Ramsay? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“‘Fraid not.”

Gally stood up straight. “I’ve just decided that I don’t know you guys. Come on Ben.”

He moved to walk away.

“Awww,” said Brenda, running around him to block his exit. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes I do.”

They were interrupted by somebody’s phone going off.

“Sorry,” said Ben, reaching into his pocket. He pulled his phone out and stepped away from the group as he held it up to his ear.

Gally wondered who’d be calling him.

“So Gal,” said Frypan, pulling his attention away from Ben, “what are you gonna be dressing up as?”

“Who said you could call me Gal?”

“Gally then. Question still stands.”

Gally shrugged. “I have no idea.”

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see that Ben was done with his phone conversation.

“I have a couple of letterman jackets from my old school,” said Ben. “You could borrow one, and we can both be be stereotypical teen movie jocks.”

Gally’s mind almost short circuited. Ben was suggesting they have matching Halloween costumes. Ben was offering to lend him an item of his own clothing in order for them to be able to do so. There was absolutely no reason at all for this to be significant. It was just smart. It would save them both money, seeing as they wouldn’t have to buy anything, and it was a costume that worked better if there was more than one person doing it, because it worked well as a group. It didn’t _mean_ anything.

It hit Gally that he might’ve grown a little more fond of his roommate than was entirely smart.

He forced himself to nod. “I’m up for that.”

Ben beamed. “Great!”

“You don’t mind me borrowing your jacket?”

“Of course not!” His eyes were crinkling at the sides as he smiled, Gally noticed. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if it weren’t okay.”

Gally looked to where Brenda and Frypan had been standing just moments before, only to find that they’d wandered off, leaving him and Ben alone. He felt like he should’ve been annoyed by that, but wasn’t. If anything, he was glad.

And just a little bit terrified.

He wasn’t used to this.

“Who called you?”

Ben’s smiled softened. “My brother,” he said. “We haven’t had a chance to talk for a while, so I’m gonna call him back this evening. It’s nice to hear his voice.”

“Oh,” said Gally. He hadn’t known that Ben had even had a brother. “How old is he?”

“Twelve,” said Ben. “It’s just him and dad at home right now.”

“What’s his name?”

“Chuck.”

“Do you miss him?”

Gally didn’t know why he was asking. They were all killers, the smart thing to do was to not say anything about their families or loved ones. He wasn’t even sure why Ben had answered any of his questions so far. At any moment, Ben would surely realise that he was sharing way too much personal information, and would shut this conversation down. He refused to make an effort with Teresa because she’d gone too far with something. Was it his brother? Did she ask about his brother? Fuck, was Gally’s curiosity about his roommate and kinda-friend and apparently-crush going to destroy what they’d built between them?

“Yeah,” said Ben, smiling sadly. “I do.”

......Apparently Ben trusted Gally enough to just. Say that.

Okay then.

  


“Class, there’s something important that I need to tell you.”

Teresa looked up from the doodles she’d been making in her notebook. She’d finished the math exercise already, but hadn’t wanted to bring that fact to Vince’s attention, because he’d have just found more work for her to do.

She had a feeling that she knew what he was about to say, and tried not to appear too excited. She had no idea how everyone else was going to take it.

“It’s a WCKD Academy tradition that each of the senior classes puts on a play shortly after Christmas,” said Vince. “This year, that includes all of you. It’s supposed to be planned, directed, and acted out by you, but I’m available if you need help or supervision with putting anything together.”

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” said Gally, dropping his head onto his desk.

Teresa looked around the room. She couldn’t read most people’s reactions. They probably didn’t feel strongly enough about it to show their feelings blatantly enough for her to see. Harriet was scowling, but that wasn’t anything unusual, and Brenda looked like she’d just found out she’d won the lottery, but everyone else seemed to be fairly neutral.

That was okay. She could work with neutral.

“Gally,” she said, “I’ve been looking forward to this for my whole time here.”

“Good for you.”

Newt shrugged, a small smile working its way onto his face. “It sounds like it could be fun.”

“I’m directing!” said Brenda. “I’ve gone to drama clubs since I was three, I have experience!”

Vince smiled. “You don’t have to decide everything now, there’s plenty of time. For now, you should be getting on with your work.”

Teresa picked her pen back up and resumed doodling.

She couldn’t wait to get started.

  


Thomas wasn’t a massive fan of parties. Though there was something to be said for sitting off to the side and watching the party happen, especially considering that it was fancy dress. He was surprised at the effort that people had gone to, and those that hadn’t gone to much effort had got creative instead. He couldn’t see anybody that had ignored the dress code entirely.

He’d gotten compliments on his own costume from a few different people. It had been Newt’s idea. He was wearing a white shirt that had been nearly ripped to shreds and covered in fake blood, and was carrying around a foam knife. He wasn’t sure whether it was supposed to be a serial killer, or their victim, but whatever. It looked cool.

He still had a real knife tucked into his waistband out of sight. It wasn’t likely that there’d be an attack, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

Newt looked stunning. His outfit was entirely black, because that wasn’t where he’d wanted people to focus. He’d wanted them to focus on his skin. He’d used a mixture of greens, blues, and silvers, to paint what looked like scales on every bit of exposed skin. He’d also found foam wings from somewhere, also black, but with a hint of blue woven through it.

He was a fierce dragon.

For every compliment Thomas got on his costume, Newt got ten. And it was well deserved.

Teresa (wearing a lab coat, goggles, and with hair somehow manipulated to stand up in a gravity defying position) was sticking close to an Asian girl, who Thomas assumed must be Miyoko, as they both traversed the room chatting to everyone. Everyone seemed happy to see Teresa, and at least half the room greeted her with a hug. Thomas wasn’t surprised to learn that she was popular. She was a likeable person.

Thomas was sitting by the food table. Frypan had brought along a plate of mini-quiches that he’d made himself to add to the otherwise store-bought selection, and Thomas was having to actively restrain himself from eating every single one of them.

“Hey there!”

Thomas looked up. “Hi Brenda.”

“Are you just gonna sit there all evening?” she said, adjusting her headband.

Thomas shrugged. “Probably.”

“Nope,” she said, and grabbed his wrist. “I’m making it my mission to dance with everybody here at least once, which means you need to get off your lazy butt and dance with me.”

Thomas didn’t bother arguing. He knew there wasn’t any point.

  


Sonya’s outfit was supposed to make her look like a vampire. And it did! The black skirt with the blood red petticoat, with matching lipstick and nail polish, was probably her favourite Halloween costume ever. In isolation, she looked like a fierce vampire that was ready to strike.

The issue - although truthfully Sonya felt that it was the opposite of an issue - was Harrriet.

Harriet hadn’t had a  preference as to what she wanted to dress up as, and had so let Sonya have full creative control of her outfit.

As a result, Harriet was dressed in a long, cream coloured skirt, a soft green coloured t-shirt, and wore a flower crown of pink roses. To complete the look, her face and arms were dusted with pink and green glitter, and a pair of fairy wings were attached to the back of her t-shirt.

Harriet made a beautiful fairy princess.

At first, Sonya had thought that their costumes didn’t match each other’s at all. That was fine, if she’d wanted them to match then she’d have made Harriet be a vampire with her. But there was something about Harriet that had made Sonya want to surround her with flowers, so she’d gone for the fairy instead. And Harriet was breathtaking.

Then some boy that Sonya didn’t know made the first Hades and Persephone comment.

The boy didn’t stick around to see the results of what he said, just complimenting the girls on their couple’s costume and wandering off, leaving the girls to stare at each other in shock.

Sonya looked down at herself, then back up at Harriet.

“I thought I was supposed to be a fairy princess?” said Harriet, the ghost of a smile on her face.

“That was my intention,” said Sonya. She felt a large grin break out on her own face. “And I was supposed to be a vampire. But I like the idea of being the Gods of the Underworld.”

“He thought we were a couple.”

Sonya tilted her head and reached for Harriet’s hand. “Aren’t we?”

Harriet’s mouth dropped open. Sonya couldn’t help but laugh softly at the look of panic on Harriet’s face.

Eventually, Harriet nodded. “Yeah,” she said, voice shaking. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” said Sonya, privately relieved that she hadn’t just screwed everything up. “I’d glad to hear it.”

  


If anybody else had been wearing that outfit, they would’ve looked ridiculous. But it was Minho, so he didn’t. He looked amazing.

The pink hair was certainly drawing people’s attention, as was the fact that Minho was basically shirtless. Aris didn’t blame people for wanting to look. How could he? _He_ wanted to look.

And touch.

And taste.

Never in his wildest dreams did Aris think that he’d meet somebody like Minho. Minho was confident, attractive, and unfailingly friendly. He got along with everyone, and always tried his hardest to make those around him happy. He could have anything and anyone he wanted.

Aris tried not to resent any of the people who were dancing and/or blatantly flirting with Minho. If he was just a little bit braver, he’d be right there with them.

If it weren’t for Class A making them share a room, Aris was sure that Minho wouldn’t have ever given him a second glance.

But now they spent time together even when they didn’t absolutely have to. They were friends.

Aris wanted to be more than that.

But that wouldn’t happen. How could it?

Minho was, well, _Minho._ He was way out of Aris’ league. Even if he did occasionally say something, or do something, that made Aris feel a glimmer of hope, there wasn’t a chance. Minho would be much better off with Brenda, or whoever it was that he was off dancing with now.

It wasn’t even just his own insecurities that told Aris that he could never have a real chance with Minho. Minho wasn’t here for the reward, he was here for revenge.

And if he ever found out the truth, Aris would be as good as dead.

  


Newt had needed to step away.

He’d been enjoying the party, but so many people crowded into one dorm room had become a bit much for him. So, he’d made his way out of the room and now found himself looking out of the window at the end of the hall. He could still hear the music, but it was quieter now, making him more aware of how loud it truly was.

As far as he knew, there were only seniors in there. They were a few levels down from the top floor, where the Class A rooms were, and the levels between there and here were also for seniors, as were the next couple of levels down. Newt hoped that they were far enough above the other year groups that they weren’t disturbing them.

“Hey,” came a voice from behind him.

Newt moved to the side to let Thomas join him at the window. “It’s crowded in there.”

“Tell me about it,” said Thomas. “I think everyone who knew about the party ended up showing up.”

“How long do you reckon it is until they start spilling into other people’s rooms?”

Thomas laughed. “Probably not long at all.” He paused. “Brenda’s gonna be looking for you, by the way. She wants to dance with everyone before the end of tonight.”

“That’s a lot of people, I wish her luck.”

“Yeah, she needs it.”

“I don’t see how she’s gonna convince Ben and Gally to dance with anyone other than each other, though.”

Thomas hummed in thought. “If they’re really that adamant about sticking together, then she could dance with them both at once?”

“She could.” Newt smiled. “That’s if they’re not so wrapped up in each other that they even notice she’s there.”

Thomas looked at Newt with his brow furrowed. Newt definitely didn’t think about kissing that frown away. “Wrapped up in each other?”

Newt laughed. “Come on Tommy, they clearly like each other. I definitely don’t think that Gally would take kindly to Brenda cutting in.”

Thomas’ confusion dropped away, replaced with an expression of shock.

Newt shook his head. “You can’t tell me you didn’t notice. I refuse to believe it.”

“That’s not- I mean, I _didn’t,_ but- You- I just-”

Newt laughed softly. “Maybe get the words sorted in your head before you speak?”

Thomas took a deep breath as he collected himself. Then, he said, “You just called me ‘Tommy’.”

Newt froze.

Fuck.

“I did?”

“Uh huh.”

Newt looked away, back out the window. He tried to play it off casually. “Dunno why I did that, sorry mate.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Huh?” he said, shifting his gaze just slightly so he could see Thomas again.

Thomas was looking right at him. “You can call me that if you like.”

“You got mad at Teresa for calling you ‘Tom’.”

“And if she calls me that again, I’ll get mad at her again. But you’re not Teresa, you’re _you._ And you can call me whatever you want.”

Newt swallowed, and nodded. “Okay Tommy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's this? a chapter without any action? well there's gotta be some peacetime or i'll run out of characters before covering the whole school year ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ so have this Feelings Heavy Chapter instead :D
> 
> we all wish we were as smooth as sonya but the truth is that we are all harriet lmao
> 
> also minho is dressed up as natsu dragneel, which is pure self indulgence on my part


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: it was in the middle of this chapter that i straight up stopped writing for 10 months. if you can pinpoint the exact place where i did this, then you can give me a prompt and i'll write a fic for you !! seriously though, my google doc said 'last updated on 7th september 2018' like it was MOCKING me. all hail camp nano
> 
> also i changed my icon everywhere for the first time in many years and i need to yell about it somewhere so i'm doing it here lmao

“So Teresa,” said Minho. “What exactly do we need to do for this play thing?”

It was the first week of November, and it was pouring with rain outside, so when they were given a break from classes, the only person who left the classroom was Vince. Teresa, who had been talking to Newt about the history essay they’d been set that morning, looked up at Minho’s question. “It’s down to us to pick a play, perform it, and provide any sets or props we want. We can put as much or as little effort in as we like, but the class with the best play gets a prize.”

“Does it have to be a serious play? Or can we do a fun one?”

Teresa shrugged. “Miyoko told me that her class are doing a pantomime, though they haven’t decided which one yet. I heard that one of the other classes is thinking of doing Corialanus. It’s up to us, really. We can do what we like.”

“Out of all the Shakespeares, why the fuck would anyone want to do _that_ one?” asked Minho.

Teresa shook her head. “I genuinely have no idea. It’s not what I’d pick, that’s for sure.”

“It’s probably a good idea to start preparing for this as soon as possible,” Sonya chimed in. “Has anyone got any ideas for plays that we _could_ do?”

“If anyone suggests Othello,” said Frypan calmly, “I’ll kill them.”

“Noted,” said Teresa.

Brenda, who’d sat herself on Frypan’s desk the moment that Vince had left the room, gently shoved his shoulder. “Why would we want to do that in the first place?”

“I was the only black kid at my old school, and without fail the drama department got swamped with requests to put on that play every time they put a suggestion box out. I figured I’d veto it before that had a chance to happen here.”

Brenda frowned. “That was really shitty of the other kids.”

Frypan shrugged. “It wasn’t the only thing they did, but I guess it could’ve been a lot worse.”

“You do realise that that’s bullying, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you know who the ringleader was? Who exactly was responsible?”

Frypan nodded.

“Who was it?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I want to kill them.”

Frypan laughed. “They’re not worth it.”

“They’re not worth leaving alive, either,” she said, nothing about her indicating that she was joking.

“I think,” said Aris, pulling everyone’s attention away from that situation, “that we should pick a play that’s tragic, but fun.”

“Like what?” said Minho. “Do you have a specific idea?”

“Well,” said Aris, looking down at his thumbs, “I really like Little Shop of-”

“No,” snapped Gally. “I absolutely refuse to participate in a musical of any kind.”

“Come on,” said Minho, grin on his face. “It’s the only idea we’ve had so far, and it literally ends with everybody dying! Sounds like a blast to me.”

“There aren’t enough characters for all of us,” said Brenda. She smiled apologetically at Aris, her anger from moments ago seemingly a million miles away. “It _does_ sound like fun, but there are eleven of us, and only eight characters. One of which is technically just a voice.”

“You know the numbers off the top of your head?” asked Gally.

Brenda laughed softly. “What can I say, I’m a theatre nerd.”

“All the girls would have to sing loads for that show,” said Sonya. “I don’t know about you two,” she nodded towards Brenda and Teresa, “but Harriet and I really wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that.”

Harriet sent Sonya a grateful look.

“Okay,” said Teresa, “no singing. Any other ideas?”

There was a moment of silence, and then it was like the room exploded.

“If we’re not doing a musical, then what even is there?”

“Write our own panto? We can beat Miyoko’s class, easy.”

“Not everything has to be a competition, Minho!”

“I don’t want to do something depressing.”

“You’re kidding, right? Depressing is where it’s at.”

“We don’t have to put any actual _effort_ in, it’s not like this really matters to any of us.”

Teresa had to focus really hard on keeping her expression neutral. She’d been looking forward to this for years. Literal years. If she’d still been in the same class as Miyoko, she’d be having the time of her life right now, planning and starring in a pantomime. But instead she was stuck with this group, most of which didn’t seem to care enough to take this seriously.

A large _thump_ shocked everyone into silence.

At some point during all the yelling, Newt had walked to the front of the classroom, picked up one of the giant textbooks, and dropped it onto the desk.

He had everyone’s attention.

He grabbed a ruler off the desk. “How you’re hoping to get anything decided while you’re all talking over each other’s beyond me. From this point, you’re only allowed to talk if you’re holding this. Good that?”

Gally scoffed. “I don’t think-”

_“Good that?”_

Gally froze. Teresa didn’t have a clear view of the expression on Newt’s face, or the way he was looking at Gally, but whatever it was it had made Gally shut up.

Gally nodded.

Newt broke into a massive smile, turning so that Teresa could actually see his face now. “Great! I’ll start. Multiple people don’t want to sing, so fine, we won’t do a musical. I don’t want to have to dance, either, so that works well. Shakespeare always seems impressive, but I doubt that anyone here will want to put on a full Shakespeare play, because those things are long. So I have a suggestion. It’s pretty easy to find shortened versions of Shakespeare plays, that cut out a lot of the wordy fluff but keep the story intact, that have an eventual running time of about an hour. We could do one of those. Not only would it mean that our performance wouldn’t run for too long, but it would put us in with a decent chance at winning that prize, if that’s something you care about. Now, we’re gonna calmly hand the ruler around the class so that everyone has a chance to say their piece. Clear?”

With that, he handed the ruler to Teresa, who was sitting closest.

“Newt’s right,” she said. “About everything. I don’t have any objections.” She passed it along to Ben.

“No issues here.” He laughed. “Just, please let’s pick one that’s more fun that Corialanus.”

Gally’s turn. “If we absolutely have to do a Shakespeare, then _please,_ for the sake of my sanity, make it a comedy. I’m not going to be able to cope with all the flowery language if it’s not hiding dick jokes.”

Most people laughed.

Gally gave the ruler to Minho.

“Aris said that he wanted to do something that was ‘tragic but fun’. So how does Romeo and Juliet sound? The first half is basically a comedy anyway.”

He passed it to Aris, who said that he was okay with that idea, and passed it on to Brenda.

“So long as I get to direct it, I don’t have a preference” she said with a smile, and gave the ruler to Frypan. He silently held it out behind him to Thomas, having nothing to say himself.

“No objections here,”said Thomas. “Also, this ruler thing is brilliant and we should use it more often.” He offered it out to Harriet, but she shook her head firmly, and gestured that he should give it to Sonya instead, which he did.

“Romeo and Juliet sounds good to me. I have a question as well. Are we going to be auditioning for roles, or are we going to just give them to who wants them?”

Brenda put her hand up, and the ruler was passed to her.

  


They eventually decided to hold improvised auditions for the roles that had more than one person wanting to do them. Which ended up only being for the role of Mercutio.

Both Newt and Thomas wanted to be Mercutio.

The spare role was Tybalt. Whoever lost the audition would end up playing the winner’s killer.

Thomas didn’t feel great about that.

That evening, after Brenda had found and printed copies of a good-looking abridged version of the script for everyone, Thomas and Newt were told to stand up in front of the rest of the class and sight-read Mercutio’s lines from an early scene with Romeo and Benvolio (played by Minho and Ben, respectively). They weren’t allowed to watch each other’s performance, and were both sent outside the common room once they were done so the rest of the group could discuss it.

“They’re gonna give it to you,” said Newt once the door clicked shut. “Mine went terribly.”

“I couldn’t say at least a third of the words, so I’d say you’re in with a chance.”

“Try half.” Newt smiled. “It’s okay, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“It doesn’t even matter how well we did, not really.” Thomas gestured towards the door. “What matters is which one of us they’d rather have playing the role. And, sorry, but Mercutio is the first to die.”

Newt winced. “He is, yeah.”

“So I bet you five dollars that they’re gonna give it to you. Especially as it means that I’ll be playing the one who kills you.”

Newt crossed his arms and leant back against the wall. “I’m not taking you up on that, because I think you’re right.” He laughed. “It’s actually pretty funny.”

Thomas blinked.

“At least,” said Newt, “I’m finding it funny.” He shrugged. “You’ve gotta take what you can get.”

After a few minutes, they were invited back inside.

Thomas was right, of course. Newt got the part.

  


Moments like these made Brenda seriously question why she’d wanted to direct this stupid play in the first place.

She was trying to go through a scene near the end. It wasn’t supposed to be a particularly complicated one. There were only three characters involved, one of which was unconscious the whole time, so really there were two characters involved, along with a living prop. Romeo was to go to the Capulet family crypt to mourn Juliet, where he’d see Paris, who would think he was going to vandalise the place, and the resulting fight was to end in Paris’ death.

It would be going a lot faster if Minho would stop dicking around.

“I do defy thy conjurations,” said Aris, staring at his copy of the script, “and apprehend thee for a felon here.”

Minho grinned. “Wilt thou provoke me? Then come at me bro.”

Teresa, who’d brought her phone to entertain herself while she lay on the desk ‘playing dead’, burst into laughter.

Brenda put her head into her hands. “Please don’t do that in the real thing.”

“No, please do!” said Teresa, sitting up. “It’ll be funny.”

“It’s what his line means,” said Aris, shrugging.

“Wait, I have an idea!” Minho turned to properly face Brenda. “What if we had a character that fills their role and everything, but they say all their lines in modern language, rather than like Shakespeare?”

“What would be the point of that?” asked Brenda.

“They could also be medium-aware! So, they wouldn’t necessarily break the fourth wall, but they could tacitly acknowledge it from time to time.”

“I think it’d be better if it only happened with that line,” said Teresa. “We already have two narrators, and they speak with modern English.”

Brenda let out an exasperated sigh. “Do you _have_ to switch that line?”

Minho nodded. “It’s what Shakespeare would’ve wanted.”

Aris stifled a giggle. “To be fair,” he said, “my next line is ‘O, I am slain’, so it’s not like we’re in the middle of a sonnet or flowery language. I say make the switch.”

Brenda sighed, and looked down at her copy of the script. “Fine,” she said, noting it down. “You can say ‘come at me bro’ instead of ‘have at thee boy’, but this is the only line switch we’re doing.” She let herself smile. If she was honest with herself, injecting a moment of levity here wouldn’t cause any harm, and the audience would enjoy it. “The play from here until the end is completely serious, though, so we can’t do any more.”

“Agreed,” said Teresa as she lay back down on the table.

“Can you two remember the actions we agreed on for the last few lines?” asked Brenda.

Minho nodded. Aris looked less sure.

“Well, let’s see, shall we? Go from ‘I will apprehend him’.”

  


While Brenda had taken charge of getting the action sorted, Gally had taken charge of sets and props.

He’d taken the members of the class who weren’t running through parts of the script with Brenda down to the main hall where they were going to be performing. Some other classes were there too, everyone wanting to get started on making what they needed for their own class’s performances.

They didn’t need to build an actual balcony, but they did need to build and paint things to decorate the platform that the school would provide so that it _looked_ like a balcony. They also needed to create setpieces to be onstage for the rest of the show, to provide the background. After all, there was no way that a show without a set would be voted the best.

The competitiveness had got to them and they all wanted to win.

Gally was just about to ask Ben to go grab some more paintbrushes from the art department, when the two of them saw Newt struggling to pick up a plank of wood. Before anything could be said, Ben went over to help him out. Together they were able to carry the plank towards where most of the class was sitting, and place it so most people would be able to reach it to paint it.

Gally heard Newt thanking Ben, and Ben telling him that it wasn’t a problem. Frypan, who was sitting on the ground next to the plank, said something, which took both their attention. At a guess, it was probably about what the plan was for painting on that thing.

Gally walked over and tapped Ben’s shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“We need more brushes.”

“Oh, right, of course.” Ben smiled. It was almost blinding. “I’ll be right back.”

He jogged out the room.

“You could’ve got them yourself, you know,” said Frypan.

Gally scoffed. “And leave all you lot unsupervised? No way.”

Newt sat on the ground next to Frypan. “You say that like you can’t trust us to be sensible.”

Gally glanced over at what one of the other classes was doing. Some poor girl had somehow ended up with blue paint all over her, including a fair amount in her hair. Near to her, a boy was hammering two bits of wood together without keeping a close eye on what he was doing, and in the space of a few seconds he came close to hitting the boy next to him three separate times. Someone else was standing on what was clearly wet paint.

He looked back at the boys to see that they’d followed his gaze, and had seen the chaos happening in the other classes who didn’t have a clear leader. “I’m not willing to take that chance,” he said.

Frypan shrugged. “Fair enough.”

  


Thomas didn’t have a job to do.

All over the hall, lots of groups of people were working on putting various set pieces together. Dotted around the edge of the room were yet more people. Presumably, they were like him in that they’d wanted to help, but their assistance hadn’t been needed, and so they were being as helpful as they possibly could be by staying out of the way.

Eventually, someone would want a break from painting. When that happened, Thomas would take their place. For now he’d have to be content to just sit out and browse social media.

According to at least five different Snapchat stories, there’d been some kind of drama at his old school. Someone had cheated on someone else, the resulting confrontation had happened in the middle of the cafeteria, and a lot of people had filmed it.

Thomas didn’t even know the people who were involved.

He looked up when somebody sat next to him.

“Water?” said Ben, holding an unopened bottle out towards him.

Thomas shook his head. “I’m good.”

“Suit yourself,” said Ben, and he put the bottle down between them.

“No jobs for you either?” asked Thomas.

“I’ve been fetching stuff,” said Ben. “But right now we’ve got everything we need, so I’m taking a break. If a gap opens up it’s all yours.”

Thomas nodded.

Ben leant back against the wall, looking over at their classmates. “So,” he said, “Romeo and Juliet.”

“What about it?” asked Thomas, toying with his phone. If Ben wanted to talk, then fine, there were definitely people that Thomas would be less happy to have a conversation with, but he _was_ seriously considering just going back to viewing the many different videos of The Breakup.

“Imagine falling in love with someone you shouldn’t,” said Ben. “Someone you can’t be with. Who you’re not allowed to love.” He sighed. “It sounds awful.”

Thomas didn’t have much of a response to that, so he just shrugged.

Ben looked towards Thomas. He was smiling, but it didn’t look like normally did when he smiled. Something about it was wrong. It made Thomas feel uneasy. “What do you think _you’d_ do if you were in that position?”

Thomas stared Ben down, fighting not to look out towards the rest of the class.

Towards Newt.

Being that obvious about what he was trying to ignore could only cause trouble.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. He grabbed the water bottle, opened it, and drank.

“Hey, Tommy!”

It was safe for Thomas to look over, now that he’d been presented with an excuse, so he did. He made an exaggerated gesture to indicate to Newt that he had his attention.

“Get over here!”

Thomas stood. He didn’t look down at Ben as he started to speak.

“I’m free to like whoever I want. There isn’t anyone I’m not allowed to like, and I don’t need anyone’s permission.”

Without waiting to see Ben’s reaction, Thomas crossed the hall to Newt and the others.

Newt was beaming. “What do you think?”

Newt and Frypan had been tasked with decorating the piece of wood that was due to become the centrepiece of the balcony. They’d chosen to paint it so that it looked like it was covered in ivy.

If it weren’t for the fact that some of the pain was still wet, Thomas could’ve easily believed that it was real ivy, and not just painted on.

“That looks great!”

“You think so?”

Thomas nodded, and crouched down to get a closer look. “Yeah, I do,” he said. “How did you guys get so good at this?”

Newt shrugged, smile softening and cheeks turning slightly pink. “I just like art.”

“Good quality cake decoration and food presentation requires artistic talent,” said Frypan.

Newt laughed. “Or, we _both_ just like art.”

Frypan grinned. “You could say that.”

Newt turned back to Thomas. “We were thinking of adding some flowers here and there once what’s already there has dried. You want in?”

“Honestly, I’d love to,” said Thomas, “but I’m nowhere near as skilled as you two at this. It’s probably a better idea to leave this part to you so it stays consistent, and I can try to get in on painting another part.”

Frypan nodded. “That sounds sensible to me.” He leaned back and called out, “Hey, Gally!”

“What?” came the response.

“Is there a job for Thomas?”

Gally appeared, standing tall above where the three boys were sitting on the floor. “He can go get some coloured tissue paper and some wire from the art department, and then he can help me make flowers with it.”

Thomas stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  


Thomas woke up early.

He looked over at the other bed, to see that Newt was fast asleep. He was curled up on his side, facing towards Thomas, with an almost imperceptibly small smile on his face. Something inside Thomas’ chest clenched at the sight. He decided not to examine it too closely.

He pushed his own covers back and instantly regretted it.

It was _cold._

It was also too late to save the warmth that he’d built up overnight, so he was just going to have to deal with it. Unpleasant as it was, the cool morning air wasn’t going to kill him.

He stood, walked over to the window, and looked out over the school grounds. Everything outside was still. The light was dim, the sun having only just risen and being behind a thick layer of cloud. Summer was well and truly gone.

He hadn’t gone jogging in a while.

He glanced back at Newt. He hadn’t moved.

Thomas looked back out the window.

He could afford to do his own thing for an hour or so. It wasn’t very likely that anybody was going to attack Newt right now. There wasn’t any point in depriving himself of the things that he enjoyed all the time, just in case something went wrong while he wasn’t there.

It wasn’t like he’d be going far.

Quietly, so as to not disturb his sleeping roommate, Thomas changed into a clean t-shirt and jogging pants. He’d soon warm up despite the cold. He grabbed his phone, wrote a note on a piece of paper so that if Newt woke up before he got back he’d know where he was, and slipped out of the room.

Thomas didn’t see another soul until he reached the running track. He’d figured that he could run a few laps of that to try and see where he was at. He hadn’t gone running in a while, so he knew that it was unlikely that he’d be able to manage as much as he used to be able to. 

His plans shifted, however, when he got there and  it turned out that he wasn’t alone.

“Hey!” said Minho, waving him over. “You gonna join me?”

“That depends on what you’re doing.”

Minho grinned. “Running laps.”

“Then yes.”

They took off, and ran the first lap in complete silence.

As they passed the point where they’d started, which was marked by Minho’s water bottle, Minho broke the silence by asking where Newt was.

“Still asleep,” was Thomas’ response.

“Guessing he’s not a morning person then?”

“No, he isn’t,” said Thomas. “I’ve had to drag him down to breakfast three times already because he didn’t want to get up.”

Minho laughed. “Aris is much the same. Maybe they’d have been better off rooming together, and we should’ve been with each other?”

“That would be great for us, but not for them.” Thomas tried to shrug, but realised that it wouldn’t translate very well while they were running. “They’d miss breakfast and be late for class every day without us there to help them.”

“Alas, I think you’re right,” said Minho, with exaggerated despair. Then he grinned. “I have an idea. What if we didn’t wake them up this morning? Just to see if they can manage it on their own.”

“They could end up missing breakfast completely if we did that.”

“Which would hopefully teach them a valuable lesson about not snoozing their alarm for an hour and a half straight.”

“Newt’s not _that_ bad.”

“Aris is. Don’t get me wrong, he’s great and I love being around him, but _man_ that guy needs to learn how to get himself out of bed.”

“Okay,” said Thomas. “I’ll join in with your not-waking-them-up plan. But only because dealing with that in the mornings sounds hellish and I feel sorry for you.”

Minho gave Thomas a gentle shove, and Thomas returned in kind.

“I’ve been meaning to say,” said Minho, his voice shifting to a more serious tone, “thanks for believing me about being after the Partner, and not Newt. A big part of me didn’t think that you would.”

“Dude,” said Thomas in disbelief, “you literally gave me your notice. It’d be such a dick move not to believe you after you did that.”

“Still. I’d have completely understood if you hadn’t believed it. But you did, so thanks. It really means a lot.”

They were silent for a few moments.

Then, Thomas asked, “Why are you after The Partner, anyway?”

Minho slowed his pace right down until he came to a stop.

Thomas stopped a few paces forward from him. He turned to see a stricken expression on Minho’s face.

“I’m sorry!” he said. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay,” said Minho. “It’s just. I don’t talk about it often. But that’s because people don’t usually ask. They just hear that I’m going after this person, and don’t stop to wonder why.” He flashed a smile, but Thomas was convinced that it was fake. “People don’t usually care about that bit. But nobody decides to kill someone else without good reason, you know? At least, nobody sane does.”

Thomas said nothing. It seemed like the best thing to do was to let Minho say what he wanted at his own pace.

Minho took a deep breath. “Her name was Rachel. We were best friends. We’d always known each other, she was like my sister. And she was a genius. She was taking college level science classes when we were five, and she only got better from there. She was gonna change the world. She did normal kid stuff too, but she dedicated a lot of her time to figuring out how different diseases and illnesses work. She wanted to cure things, to stop people needlessly suffering. And I believe with every fibre of my being that she was onto something huge.

“She was 15 when The Partner killed her. Some big pharmaceutical company got wind of what she was aiming to achieve, realised that she could actually do it, and had her taken care of. The Partner always makes sure that there’s no mistaking who killed their victims, so I know it was them. That company made a huge mistake by bragging about getting away with the hit, they lost all their investors and tanked, so there’s nothing left there for me to go after. There’s just The Partner.

“They killed the person who was the most important to me in the entire world. And even ignoring how much I loved her, she could’ve saved so many lives by now. Countless people are dead because Rachel never got to finish her work. I don’t care if it was just another job to them, The Partner can’t be allowed to get away with it.”

“Okay,” said Thomas. “And you’re certain that The Partner is in Class A?”

Minho nodded.

“If I find out who they are, I’ll tell you as soon as I possibly can.”

Minho looked up at Thomas in shock. “You’d do that?”

“Yep,” said Thomas. “You’re completely justified in wanting them dead. Hell, I kinda want to see them dead just because of how many people now can’t be saved when maybe Rachel could’ve helped them. But even ignoring all of that, telling you who The Partner is will mean that there’s one less person that I’ll have to worry about trying to kill Newt.”

“Thank you,” said Minho, so quietly that it was almost a whisper.

His voice was shaky and his eyes were glistening. Thomas realised that he was fighting back tears. He hesitantly stepped towards Minho and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re allowed to be upset about it,” said Thomas. “You don’t have to fight it back, or pretend to be strong. You’re human. And you lost your best friend. Even if it was years ago, and even if you’re close to getting revenge, you’re allowed to cry.”

Minho slumped. Thomas saw some droplets fall from his face to the ground.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just really miss her.”

“You don’t have anything to apologise for,” said Thomas. A moment passed, and then Thomas said, “I don’t really know what to do. Would a hug help?”

In response, Minho reached out and pulled Thomas into a bone crushing hug. Thomas wrapped his arms around Minho in return, squeezing him tight.

Thomas didn’t know how long they stayed like that. It felt like a long time to him, but Minho evidently needed it, so he didn’t mind.

After what felt like an age, Minho pulled away.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Any time,” Thomas replied.

  


The first thing that Newt noticed when he woke up enough to stop hitting the snooze button on his phone was that he was alone in the room.

This wasn’t the first time that he’d woken up while Thomas wasn’t there. However, on the four occasions that this had happened before, Thomas had turned out to be in the bathroom, and this time Newt couldn’t hear any noises that would lead him to conclude that Thomas was, indeed, in the bathroom. No shower running, no toilet flushing, no tap running, nothing.

The room was silent.

Newt sat up and rubbed at his eyes. He turned to look again at Thomas’ bed, just in case Thomas was there after all and his mind had just been playing tricks on him.

The bed was empty.

No, not completely empty.

A sheet of paper had been left on it.

Newt tried not to panic as he jumped out of bed and snatched up the paper. A missing roommate/bodyguard, plus a note left in his place, did not necessarily equal a kidnapping situation, or that he’d decided to abandon him, or any of the worst case scenarios that were rapidly flying through his brain as he held the paper up so that he could read it. It wasn’t even the  right size or material to be an advance notice, so that wasn’t a possibility either.

He read the note.

He reached for his phone, pressed the home button, and looked at the time.

Fuck.

Newt couldn’t even be mad that Thomas’ note had nearly given him a heart attack, because its contents had been 100% bang on.

He dropped the paper and grabbed the nearest pair of jeans he could reach, not caring that he’d intended to put that pair in the laundry basket. He pulled on a random t-shirt, sprayed himself with deodorant, and ran out of the room.

Aris caught up with him when he was halfway down the stairs.

“Hey,” said Aris as he fell into step beside him. “Looks like both our roommates ditched us.”

“Yeah but I don’t blame them,” replied Newt.

Aris laughed. “I never said I did. I fully deserve this, and I’m guessing you do too.”

Newt nodded as they turned the corner. “You can go around me, you know. You’re probably faster than me.” In an ideal world, Newt would’ve been hurtling down those stairs, but that sounded like a good way for his leg to give out and for him to fall, so he couldn’t.

Aris shrugged. “We can go in together.”

Newt smiled gratefully.

The boys reached the cafeteria with just five minutes to spare before food would stop being served. They rushed to the front and each grabbed a couple of slices of toast, before turning to see who else was in the room.

It was possible that their friends had already gone back up, after all.

But they hadn’t. Thomas and Minho were sitting on a corner table, apparently deep in conversation. They didn’t look up as Newt and Aris approached.

“...sure about it being Harriet?” Thomas was saying as Newt got close enough to be able to hear them.

“Of course I’m not sure,” Minho replied. “It’s only a theory.”

“What’s this about Harriet?” Aris asked as he and Newt sat down.

“Oh,” said Minho, a sly smile appearing on his face. “Tommo and I were just talking about who we think has the biggest crush on Sonya.”

Newt looked at Thomas with an eyebrow raised, silently asking if this was true. It was fine if it was, but he didn’t think that Thomas would’ve been particularly interested in that sort of gossip. Thomas gave a small shake of his head, confirming Newt’s suspicion, but telling him not to challenge Minho on it. Newt was happy to comply.

“Really?” said Aris.

“Yep!” Minho leaned in and lowered his voice. “Brenda said that Harriet spent the whole of the Halloween party trailing after Sonya like a lost puppy.”

“That’s because they’re a couple,” said Newt.

“Wait, what?” said Minho. “Since when?”

“Since that party.” Newt ate some of his toast, and then when it became apparent that nobody else was going to speak, said, “Did you seriously not realise that they were together now?”

“I knew that Harriet liked her, but I didn’t know that Sonya liked her back or that she knew about it.”

Thomas shook his head. “With how obvious Harriet was being, there’s no way that Sonya wouldn’t notice.”

“It’s one thing to say that when you’re an outsider looking in,” Minho said, pointing his fork at Thomas, “but it’s something entirely different when you’re the one actually involved in the situation. It’s completely possible for Sonya to not notice Harriet’s massive crush on her, even if she’s usually very observant.” He put his fork down.

“Well,” said Newt, “she did notice. So that renders your point moot.”

“Get you with your fancy words.” Minho grinned. “Does everyone in England talk like that?”

Newt rolled his eyes. “No,” he said. “No they do not.”

  


It was an unusually warm day for the time of year, so when Gally and Ben reached the hall during lunch, there were only a handful of other people around tending to their own props. Most of the year had decided to go outside instead, and soak up the last dregs of sunlight that they were likely to see for a few months. Gally didn’t blame them, he’d like to be out there too. But he’d taken charge of getting the props for the show built, and that meant that he had to make sure that it got done.

As he and Ben painted the plank of wood that would eventually become part of the set of the Capulet household, they kept a light stream of conversation going. Talking to Ben was easy. Gally didn’t think that he’d ever met someone that he’d had an easier time getting along with.

He felt comfortable calling Ben his friend now. Which, he had to admit, felt strange. It wasn’t that he’d never had friends before, because he _had._ But when the family business was assassination, you were taught young that getting too close to other people could only lead to disaster. Gally hadn’t expected to throw that lesson to the wayside, but this was the longest that he’d ever been away from home for, and what was life without a little teenage rebellion?

Gally knew that his friendship with Ben ran a little deeper than that, though. At least, it did from his perspective. He’d heard that a lot of people struggled to properly distinguish between platonic and romantic affection, but he was reasonably certain that if his feelings for Ben were just platonic, then he wouldn’t be spending so much time thinking about kissing him.

So yeah. Definite crush. But he had no idea how to navigate that situation beyond recognising that he was in it.

“Shit!”

Gally looked up from what he was painting. “All alright?”

“No, Gally move your-” Ben cut himself off. “Fuck.”

“What?”

Ben gestured to the ground. Gally looked down to see a paint pot on its side, with bright blue paint spilling out of it.

Spilling all over his shoes.

“I’m really sorry,” said Ben, reaching down to pick up the pot. It was already too late to save its contents, so there wasn’t any need to rush. “I wasn’t looking at where my feet were and I kicked it.”

“It’s fine,” said Gally. “That’s why we put mats down before we started, to avoid ruining the floor.”

“But your shoes!” Ben sighed. “This goes way beyond a few splatters. I’ll pay for them.”

“Dude, don’t worry about it.”

“I can’t just ruin your things and then do nothing!”

“They were $200.”

Shock joined the cocktail of emotions (also including panic and annoyance) featured on Ben’s face. “What the fuck.”

Gally shrugged. “This job pays well, what can I say?”

“But those are still really expensive? Why would you wear them while painting?”

“Because I can? It’s not like I’m spending the money on anything else.”

Ben’s expression darkened and he turned away. “You’re lucky. I wish I could do shit like that.”

“Why can’t you?” Realising how much of a personal question that was, Gally quickly added, “No pressure! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!”

Ben looked back at Gally and smiled sadly. “My dad’s really sick,” he said. “Mum walked out just after Chuck was born, dad got sick a few years ago, and we don’t have anyone else that we can turn to. It’s up to me to look after us and pay for dad’s treatment.” He looked away. “That’s why I got into this business, and that’s why I’m here.”

“That’s what your prize would be?”

Ben nodded. “I need to make sure that they’re both looked after properly. Dad deserves the best possible care, and Chuck deserves the best possible life. If I win, neither of them will ever need to worry about a thing.”

“Damn,” said Gally. “I kinda feel like an asshole.”

“How come?”

“I’m here for money too, but to give to my parents as a gift. It’ll get used to get, like, a second house or something. You’re here because you actually need to be.”

“Don’t think of it that way.” Ben turned to fully face Gally and stared him in the eye. “Our specific circumstances may be different, but at the end of the day, we’re both here for our families. I don’t deserve to win any more or less than you, or anyone else here. Thinking like you shouldn’t be the one to win will only lead to you letting yourself lose.”

“Isn’t it in your best interest for me to do that then?” asked Gally. “If I self-sabotage, then aren’t you more likely to win?”

“If I win I want to have earned it fairly.” Ben relaxed into a smile. “Besides, family is important. It would suck if you let them down, right? I’m not giving up, so I don’t want you to give up either.”

Gally didn’t know what to say. If their positions were switched, Gally knew that there was no way that he’d be able to be so gracious or encouraging to his competitors. He’d be doing all he could to stop them from having a chance, and he certainly wouldn’t spend any time talking anyone else out of pulling out. He’d just let them.  
Ben was too good.

A phone rang.

Ben reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and looked at the screen. “Sorry,” he said, “I need to take this.”

“Go ahead. I’ll get back to painting.”

Ben smiled and stepped back a few paces while Gally dipped his brush back into the yellow paint pot.

“Hi Chuck! How are things?” Ben said into the phone. There was a long pause. Then, he said, “Oh. Are you okay? Have you got enough food?” Another pause. Ben then laughed softly, and said, “Okay. You just hang in there, you hear me? Good. I’ll be home before you know it. Bye Chuckie.” His arm fell down to his side as he hung up.

“Is everything okay?” asked Gally.

“Dad’s been hospitalised again,” said Ben, his voice low and monotonous.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Ben shook his head. “I need some time alone,” he said. He silently wrapped the head of the paintbrush with plastic, put it down, and left the room.

For the very first time, Gally was grateful for the creation of that groupchat. It was only because of that that he’d added Ben on any social media platform at all.

If he understood the situation at all, then Ben wasn’t going to be here for much longer. And no matter how things went, Gally knew that he didn’t want to lose contact with him. Ben was his first real friend, and first proper crush. Gally wasn’t going to let him go that easily.

As far as his attempt would go, Gally wished him all the best.

  


While the rest of the school had decided to spend their lunch break outside, Newt had wanted to find somewhere inside that was quiet. He wanted to finish off the maths exercise that they’d done in class that morning, because he knew that if he didn’t somehow remind himself of how to complete the problems before going to bed then he wouldn’t remember it the next day.

The library was still shut. Apparently it was going to be until the new year.

So he and Thomas ended up in the Class A common room.

Their conversation had petered out a while ago, with each of them more focused on their work, but it wasn’t silent. Thomas had opened the window when they came in, and the sounds of people talking and younger children playing drifted up into the room. It was a nice sound, Newt decided. It was pleasing, calming, reassuring. No matter what happened to him, all those people’s lives would carry on and the world would keep turning.

The calm was broken when the door to the common room opened.

Newt looked up, and through the corner of his eye he saw Thomas doing the same.

He relaxed when he saw that it was only Ben.

Ben seemed surprised to see that there were people in the room, but recovered quickly. He murmured a greeting, before grabbing a random book off of the shelf and sitting himself in the far corner.

This would’ve suited Newt completely fine, if it weren’t for the fact that something seemed _off_ about Ben. He was upset, agitated. Every time that Newt glanced up from his work, Ben was staring down at his chosen book, but he wasn’t reading it. If he’d been reading it then his eyes would’ve been moving as he made his way down the page, but they weren’t. They stayed still. Newt couldn’t even be entirely sure whether Ben was blinking or not.

Had he and Gally had a fight? Whatever it was, something was definitely wrong.

Despite Newt expecting it, when Ben finally spoke, Newt nearly jumped out of his skin.

“I was talking to Teresa the other day.”

Newt hummed to indicate that he was listening.

“She said that people were dead because of you.”

“Dude, what the fuck?” said Thomas. “What the hell makes you-”

“I was just wondering what that was like,” Ben continued over Thomas’ protests. He focused on Newt, ignoring that Thomas was even in the room. “What’s it like, knowing that all those people are dead, just because they got close to you? How can you live with that?”

Newt thought for a moment, and put his pen down. “It sucks,” he said. “I’m not denying that. If I was given the chance to bring all those people back, or to stop their deaths before they had a chance to happen, then I would. But I can’t. They’re gone. There isn’t ever gonna be anything I can do that could change that. And you’re right that a lot of them died specifically to protect me, and that if it weren’t for me then they’d probably still be alive.

“But if I were to spend my whole life feeling awful and guilty, then that would be disrespectful to them. They gave their lives so that I could live. I have to honour that. And as far as I’m concerned, the best way for me to do that is for me to live my life to the fullest. No matter what happens, I’m determined to keep living and smiling because I know that that’s what they’d all want. Yes, I miss them, but I can’t let that get in the way of me living my life.”

Ben nodded, a sad smile on his face. Then he turned to Thomas, finally acknowledging that he was there. “Did you hear that?” he said. “Newt said that he’d smile, even if you died.”

“Ben,” said Newt, “are you okay? Did something happen?”

Thomas stood and picked up Newt’s notebook. “Come on,” he said, and he walked out of the room.

Newt tried to catch Ben’s eye as he followed, but Ben had gone back to pretending to read.

Thomas had stopped walking a few paces away from the common room door. Once it had clicked shut, he sighed and gave Newt back his notebook.

“Of all the people here, I didn’t expect something like that to come from _him,”_ Thomas said, shaking his head.

“He seemed upset when he came in,” said Newt. “He was just taking it out on the first person he saw. He’s only human. It’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t care how bad of a day he’s having, none of that’s ever an acceptable thing to say to someone.”

Newt took a deep breath. “He wasn’t exactly wrong though. A lot of people have died because they wanted to protect me, and it’s not impossible that it could happen to you, too. And if it does, then of course I’ll be upset, but I won’t let myself be paralysed by grief or anything.”

“Well duh,” said Thomas. “So long as you’re in Class A, you can’t afford to.”

“But-”

“And _you_ were right about the rest of what you said. I don’t plan on dying, but if I do, then I’d prefer you to lead a happy life.” He smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Thomas walked down the hall, leaving Newt to his own thoughts for a moment.

He’d said not to worry about it, but there was no way that Newt was going to listen. It was one thing for him to say that, should Thomas die, he wouldn’t let it break him. And yeah, none of the deaths of loved ones so far had caused him to break down completely. ‘So far’ being the key words here.

Much as he wanted to be confident that he’d be able to be strong should the worst happen, he couldn’t be. Newt was no fool, and he was very aware that he and Thomas had been getting closer and closer as time went on. They were already a lot closer than the average bodyguard and target were. Newt’s small, ill-advised crush aside, Thomas was Newt’s best friend.

Newt didn’t want to think about having to exist in a world without Thomas.

Unfortunately, him having to do just that was a very real possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also if you were following the [lead me to a future series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1019901) then pls be aware that i've posted all of the fic that's newt's pov of the timeskip and have tentatively marked the series as complete !!! so go check that out if you haven't already :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you ever just stop writing for two weeks for No Good Reason? it's nowhere near my record but damn i thought i was gonna do better than this
> 
> mind the tags

Thomas got up to get himself another bottle of water, leaving Newt at the table alone.

It was dinner, so the cafeteria wasn’t as busy as it usually was at lunch. A lot of the other high schoolers liked to eat later than Newt and Thomas did, and there were always people who went off-campus for food. There were still people about. They were just all non Class A people.

Not even 10 seconds after Thomas had got up, Teresa appeared at Newt’s side. “Can I sit?” she asked.

“Sure,” said Newt.

“Thanks,” she said, sitting in the seat next to Thomas’ empty one. “I didn’t want to sit alone, and there aren’t any other seniors here at the moment.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” said Newt. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Teresa smiled. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”

“He’s learning to be nicer to others.”

Teresa laughed. “I don’t blame him for not wanting to be too friendly. It’s the sensible thing to do, really. Everyone else being all buddy-buddy with each other could very easily end with it blowing up in their faces.”

“Aren’t you friends with Brenda?”

Teresa shrugged. “I’m friend _ ly _ with her, but I wouldn’t say that we were close. I’m doing my best not to disappear on all of you, but my actual friends aren’t in Class A.”

“If you’d rather spend time with Miyoko, then I don’t see why you can’t just do that? You’re hardly gonna get kicked out for it, so long as you don’t tell them about the assassins.”

“I need to be easily available so that people can tell me what they want to have as their reward. If I’m spending all my time with people who can’t know anything about it, then I’m making it harder for people to get a hold of me in private so we can discuss it.” She smiled. “It’s okay, I still see them loads! This  _ is _ a boarding school, after all. And we have a very active groupchat, so I talk to them every day.”

“That’s alright then,” said Newt.

Teresa nodded.

They were silent for a few moments. Teresa started eating her food.

“So,” said Newt, “would you say that you were pretty knowledgeable about everyone in the class?”

“I know all,” Teresa replied. “There’s only so much that I can tell you, though.”

“I figured that much,” said Newt. “I was just wondering about Thomas? We spend all our time together, but I don’t actually know much about him.”

Teresa thought for a moment. “Okay,” she said. “You wouldn’t know about it because you’re not an assassin, but when the rest of the class was first introduced to Thomas, we were all a little bit starstruck. Because he’s Thomas  _ Cooper. _ His mother was a woman named Mary Cooper, and she was amazing. I’m honestly a little bit in love with her.”

“Excuse me?”

Teresa startled, and Newt was sure that the guilty expression on her face was mirrored on his own.

“Hey Tommy,” he said.

Thomas sat down. “If you have questions, you know that you can just ask me, right? You don’t have to go behind my back.”

“Sorry.”

“And you,” he said, turning to Teresa. “I’m not mad that you were telling him about that, that stuff’s public knowledge anyway, but you should know better than to be talking about that while we’re in a public place.”

“So what’s the rest of your family like?” asked Newt.

Thomas shrugged. “I don’t have any.”

“I don’t really have family, either,” said Teresa.

“Oh,” said Newt. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“What did I literally just say?” Thomas shook his head, but Newt could see a tiny smile trying to fight its way through. “You’re allowed to ask whatever you want.”

Right then, some guy that Newt didn’t recognise approached the table. “Your class is the one prepping for Romeo and Juliet, right?”

“Yeah,” said Newt.

“Your set-pieces look great!” The guy grinned. “I’m really looking forward to your performance.”

As he walked away, Thomas turned to Teresa. “Like I said, this is a public place. Imagine if he’d come over here while you were talking about that shit?”

“Okay,” said Teresa. “Message received. I’ll be more careful.”

  
  


Thomas didn’t feel completely comfortable about not sticking with Newt at all times, but Newt had insisted that it would be ridiculous for Thomas to stand guard outside the school council meeting for the whole time. He’d be with civilians the whole time, so he’d be fine! Thomas was free to spend some time on his own for a bit.

Despite his slight uneasiness, Thomas had to admit that it was nice to be able to wander the school grounds without having to keep a constant eye on the person he was with. He wasn’t completely relaxed, but it was still nice.

He found himself back at the running track. It was early evening, so the track was in use. A few different sports clubs had different sections of the track. There was a group taking it in turns to sprint down one side of it, another that were setting up some hurdles, and a third that were seeing how far across the track they could jump. Thomas sat down to the side of the track, deciding that he was going to spend some time watching them all.

It was nice. Like the sounds of people loudly existing that had come in through the window at lunch the day before, it was oddly calming to watch people living their own, mundane lives.

“Hey.”

Thomas looked up and behind him.

He hadn’t heard Ben approach.

“Hey,” Thomas said back.

Ben sat down next to him. “I wanted to apologise. For yesterday, I mean. I was out of order.”

“I’m not really the one that you need to be apologising to.”

“I’ll get to him soon, don’t worry. But I needed to say it to you, too, and I saw you here and figured now was as good a time as any. Better to do it close to the thing you’re apologising for than to leave it for ages, right?” He turned to look out at the people using the track. “So. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that shit.”

“Apology accepted.”

Ben smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

They lapsed into silence for a bit. The club that had been using the lines of the track as markers for their jumps moved into the centre, sending a couple of younger members over to the equipment storage shed. Before too long, the kids came running back with two basketballs each, and the person who looked to be the club leader started to give out instructions that Thomas couldn’t quite hear.

“It’s not fair.”

“Hmm?” Thomas looked at Ben.

“This whole Class A thing. Like, Newt’s a good guy. Even when I was being a dick, he was just concerned about whether I was okay or not. He deserves to live a normal life. He deserves to take part in things like this,” he gestured towards the sports clubs, “and to have friends who at the very least aren’t going to try and kill him some day. And then there’s the rest of us. We’re all just kids. What kid would choose to kill people if they had any other option? None of us are like this by our own choice.”

“You know,” said Thomas, “you’re not the first person to say that to me.”

“I must be right then.” Ben shook his head, and sighed. “Have you considered finding a way to set him free from all this?”

“Huh?”

“I think I know a way,” Ben continued.

“What is it?”

Ben looked around them. “I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing,” he said. “We could both get in a lot of trouble, and then how would you be able to protect Newt? How about we meet back here later tonight, say at about 10? I’ll tell you then.”

Before Thomas had a chance to respond, Ben stood and walked away, heading back towards the school building.

  
  


Of all the things that Gally expected to see when he got back to his room, Ben packing his things was not one of them.

But he wasn’t surprised, either.

“You’re making your move?”

Ben looked up. “Yeah,” he said. “I can’t leave it any longer. Chuckie needs me back home, and my dad needs that treatment. I need to-”

“It’s okay,” said Gally, cutting him off. “I get it. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” said Ben, relaxing.

“Do you need any help packing?”

Ben looked down at what he had left to do. “I’ve nearly got it all,” he said. “There’s just a few more things.”

“I can handle it, if you like. You’ve got more important things to be worrying about.”

Ben nodded. “Okay,” he said, and he stepped away from the open suitcase.

He crossed the room, and Gally moved so that he’d be able to actually go out of the door. But Ben didn’t go out of the door. Instead, he stopped in front of where Gally was standing.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

“What for?”

“For everything.” Ben gave a small smile. “You’ve been great. I really hope that we can keep in contact when this is all over.”

“Of course we will,” said Gally. “I’m not letting you get away that easily.”

“I’m glad,” Ben said quietly.

He wasn’t looking Gally in the eyes. He was looking just below that point. Gally wasn’t sure what exactly Ben was looking at, but he found himself glancing down at Ben’s lips.

It happened so quickly that he didn’t register it happening until it was over.

Ben stepping closer, closing the gap between them.

Ben’s fingertips on his jaw.

Ben’s lips on his.

And then nothing.

Gally’s fingertips drifted up to his own lips without his permission, feeling the area where he could still feel the ghost of pressure on them.

Ben smiled. “Was that okay?”

Not trusting himself to speak, Gally nodded.

“Good,” said Ben. He reached out and opened the door. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Gally nodded.

“Goodbye, Gally.”

And he was gone.

  
  


“Do I have to read this whole thing?”

Teresa watched in amusement as Brenda looked up from her copy of the script to glare at Minho.

_ “Yes,”  _ said Brenda. “There’s no point in running the lines if we don’t run the actual lines.”

“I get that,” said Minho, “but I thought this was supposed to be an abridged version? This is basically an entire monologue.”

“You’re the one who wanted to be Romeo!”

Aris cleared his throat. “There  _ is  _ a lot here. We could cut most of it and nothing would really change, the most important lines in this scene are said by Juliet anyway.”

“Juliet’s lines are important, yeah,” said Sonya, “but Romeo being extra is also important. Besides,” she said, shrugging and looking towards Minho, “it might be annoying to go through it now, but I think you’ll be great at this section on the night.”

Minho looked at his copy of the script. “I guess,” he said. A small smile crept onto his face, and he looked up at Sonya. “Extra, you said?”

Sonya nodded.

Minho looked at Brenda. “I’m gonna make this passage ridiculous, you know that right?”

Brenda shook her head, but she was smiling a little. “Just say the damn lines, and you can be as ridiculous as you want.”

Minho grinned, looked down at his script, and began to read aloud.

Teresa had to bite on her lip to stop herself from laughing. Minho performed Romeo’s musings on how much he was in love with Juliet as if he were doing a dramatic reading. Aris seemed to be equally entertained, as was Frypan and Sonya. Even Harriet seemed to be finding Minho’s antics amusing. Teresa caught Brenda’s eye and grinned, causing the other girl to visibly relax.

_ ‘It’ll be fine,’  _ Teresa mouthed at her.

Minho may have been mucking around now, but Teresa was confident that when it came to actually blocking the scene, and especially when it came to actually performing it, then Minho would take this seriously and perform it properly. There wasn’t any harm in letting him make fun of it now.

Brenda rolled her eyes.  _ ‘I know,’  _ she mouthed back.

“Ay me,” said Teresa at the point in Minho’s dramatic reading that she was supposed to. She said it with no emotion or verbal expression, somehow managing to keep all traces of laughter out of her voice.

Frypan collapsed into a fit of giggles.

Brenda caught Teresa’s eye and shook her head in mock disappointment. Teresa put on a show of false innocence, and readied herself to say her own lines.

“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo....”

As she spoke, she noticed the door to the common room open, and saw Ben slip inside. He sat himself on the side of an armchair that was fairly close to the door and watched the run-through without saying anything.

At long last, they reached the end of the scene.

“Okay!” said Brenda. “We’ve mostly got the pronunciation down already, which is good. I think there are a couple of lines here and there that we could stand to lose, but I want to hear what the people who aren’t in this scene think.”

“Oh, hi Ben!” Minho said, putting his script down beside him. “When did you get here?”

“Roughly since the rose metaphor,” Ben replied.

“That long?” Minho seemed to be genuinely surprised. “You were quiet.”

“It’s good that you’re here, actually,” said Brenda. “We were wanting to go through a scene with Romeo and Benvolio, make sure that you can both say all the words.”

Ben smiled apologetically. “Sorry, but I just came to borrow Teresa for a second.”

Brenda’s face fell. “You’re up?”

He nodded.

“Oh. Well, good luck!”

“Thanks,” he said. He then got up and walked out of the room.

Teresa stood, grabbed her bag, and followed.

Ben had stopped only a few paces away from the common room doors. He turned to face Teresa.

“So,” she said, pulling her notebook from out of her bag and flipping it open, “what do you want?”

“You know about my dad, right? That he’s sick?”

Teresa nodded. “And I know that you have a younger brother, who you’re responsible for taking care of, and who you would do anything for.”

Ben chuckled. “Yeah, you made that clear already.”

Teresa smiled sheepishly. “I wasn’t trying to upset you that day. Sometimes I just speak without thinking properly first. I really was just trying to get to know you a bit better.”

“Yeah well, you know.”

“Yeah,” said Teresa. “I get it.”

“I want enough money to be able to get my dad the treatment he needs to get better. I want enough money that Chuck never wants for anything. I want enough money so that we can always afford to buy clothes, food, whatever. I want Chuck to be able to go to college and not have to worry about a thing. And I want to be able to access more at any time, in case something goes wrong and we end up running out.”

Teresa noted that all down. “Got it,” she said. “When do you think you’ll be giving him your notice? Or have you done it already?”

“I’m doing it tonight,” said Ben. “I have one more question about the prize.”

“Shoot.”

“Say my attempt goes wrong, and I succeed but also don’t make it out alive. My family would still get the reward, right?”

It was a reasonable enough question. Especially when the target had a bodyguard.  _ Especially  _ when that bodyguard was a Cooper, of all things. But there was something about the way that Ben asked that question that set Teresa on edge.

There was something about it that scared her.

“Well?”

“Uh, yes,” said Teresa. “If you win then you get the reward, even if you yourself aren’t alive to see it delivered.”

Ben expression shifted into one that looked like relief, and Teresa couldn’t help but feel like she’d made a mistake by telling him the truth.

“That’s good,” he said. “Thank you.”

He turned around and started to walk away.

“You’ll be careful, right?” she called after him.

He didn’t respond.

  
  


The student council meeting had gone on for a lot longer than anyone had expected.

There wasn’t any one thing that had caused it to happen. There wasn’t any specific person to blame for it. It was just that every single point that was raised over the course of the meeting had each somehow managed to take over five minutes each to discuss, and with representatives from every class in what was a pretty large school, each with more than one thing to talk about, this had added up to a lot.

Newt wasn’t too annoyed by it. Yes, it was frustrating that all of the rest of his afternoon and a good chunk of his evening had been taken away. But mostly he was happy. It had only taken so long because everyone had been allowed to speak and have their voices heard. Noone had been told that they weren’t allowed to explain how their classes were feeling. Everyone, without exception, had been allowed to make their case and had been taken seriously. Even when, as was the case for a handful of responses, the answer to their request or complaint had been an immediate ‘no’, they’d still been given the platform with which they could explain their perspective to the deputy head. Of course the school wasn’t about to let students vape during class, but by letting that 14 year old present his case on why they should, then he and his peers felt like they’d been heard,  _ and  _ it also helped with his public speaking skills.

Also, the longer the meeting took place, the longer that Newt could go without having to be at all worried that someone was about to try to kill him.

It was already dark outside by the time it was over. Newt hung back for a few minutes to chat with some of the other senior class reps, fielded some questions about Alby, and got added to their groupchat. He couldn’t keep stalling, though, and eventually he had to head back towards the Glade building.

Campus was quiet as he walked over. There were a couple of people dotted about here and there, and he was sure he could hear some distant music coming from somewhere. But it was cold and dark, so most of the kids had retreated inside their rooms.

It was peaceful.

Newt just wished that he didn’t have such a bad feeling about tonight.

It was ruining it.

Logially, he knew that he was most likely completely safe. Nobody had given him an advance notice, and they’d have to give him one before being able to attack him. He didn’t recognise anyone that was even remotely nearby, and it wasn’t like there was a secret member of Class A that he didn’t know about it. That wasn’t how it worked. That was never how it worked. The assorted assassins and killers were always known to the target. If there was someone targeting him who  _ wasn’t  _ an actual part of Class A, then that would be a whole other situation.

Which, come to think of it, wasn’t entirely impossible. But at least Paige would let the police onsite if that happened, and it would get Newt out of Class A for a bit.

He figured that maybe getting hospitalised after an assassination attempt may not be the best way to dodge potential assassination attempts.

If Thomas was around, then his thoughts wouldn’t have been able to spiral like that. Thomas would’ve noticed the moment that Newt was starting to scare himself, and would’ve done something to distract him. He was good at doing that. Newt wasn’t completely sure that Thomas even did it on purpose, but he was grateful anyway.

He knew that it wasn’t healthy for him to spend all the time away from Thomas in a state of mild panic and missing him. When he’d recognised the beginning of that feeling on that Halloween shopping trip, he’d tried to take a mental step back and remind himself that they were two separate people with different lives and they couldn’t be together all the time. Even if Thomas’ presence meant that he was safer than he was without him, Thomas wasn’t actually a paid bodyguard. For the most part, Newt reckoned that he was successful at telling himself this. But right now, as he was walking home alone in the dark, he felt like he was entitled to embrace his feelings a little.

It wasn’t like Thomas was just in the next aisle over. Thomas was nowhere around.

Newt reached the Glade building at half nine. He got in the lift with a girl that he faintly recognised from seeing her around, but he didn’t know her name. They smiled politely at each other, didn’t acknowledge each other further, and she got off a few levels down from the top.

“Hey, Tommy!” Newt said as he opened the door to his room. “Did you miss me?”

But Thomas wasn’t in the room.

Confused, Newt took a few steps further into the room.

Still no Thomas.

Then he noticed the sheet of paper on the end of Thomas’ bed.

Feeling an odd combination of deja vu and panic that he knew to be unreasonable, Newt picked up the paper.

 

_ I’m in the hall, Gally wanted help with the sets. You’re welcome to join =D _

 

Newt was going to make a new rule for the two of them. No more notes left in the room explaining where they were. His heart just couldn’t take it. They both had phones, they had multiple ways to contact each other on that, so they could bloody use them.

Newt put the note in the bin and headed back out the room.

“Hey!” someone called out to him as he was waiting for the lift to arrive.

“Hey Fry,” he said. He looked to see that Frypan had been about to go into his own room, with his hand still on the handle.

“Where are you heading?” he asked.

“Thomas is helping Gally out with the sets, I’m gonna meet them there.”

“Oh,” said Frypan. “Be careful, okay?”

Newt nodded. “I will, don’t worry.”

Frypan turned his face away and went into his room without another word.

Puzzled, Newt thought about it more as he made his way back out of the Glade building and over to where the main hall was.

Did Frypan know something? Was something going to happen?

Was Thomas hurt?

Was he about to walk into a trap?

Newt didn’t have anything with him that he could use as a possible weapon, so if he was attacked then his options were limited.

But if what had happened so far proved anything, it was that Newt was pretty good at improvisation.

The hall was full of paintbrushes and planks of wood and various tools. If he got attacked then it surely wouldn’t be too difficult for Newt to grab something to defend himself with.

Part of him hoped that Frypan had just been in a strange mood though, and that there wasn't anything to be worried about. And, of course, the participants in Class A had a vested interest in making sure that Newt  _ was  _ careful. After all, if somebody succeeded in killing him, then it meant that everyone else would’ve lost. What he said could’ve just been a general  _ ‘I notice that Thomas is not with you and therefore I need you to be careful so that I can get the chance to kill you at some point in the not too distant future’. _

Newt really needed to stop thinking about things so hard.

When he reached the main hall, all of the lights were off.

If Thomas and Gally had been in there working on the sets, then the lights would’ve been on.

Or, they’d been working in there for so long that they hadn’t realised that the sun had gone down and that their light had slowly disappeared. A similar enough thing had happened to him in the past, and he hadn’t realised just how dark it was until someone turned on a light.

Newt didn’t know who he was trying to kid.

This was totally a trap.

But that meant that Thomas could be in trouble. There was no way that Newt was going to leave without making sure that Thomas wasn’t there.

Cursing himself, Newt stepped through the door into the hall and reached along the wall for a lightswitch.

Finding one, he turned it on and took in the room.

As he’d expected, Thomas and Gally weren’t there.

Standing in the middle of the room, however, was Ben.

Yeah, Newt was definitely implementing a ban on writing notes.

“Hi,” said Ben.

“Hey,” Newt replied, stepping forwards. Despite knowing the answer already, he had to ask. “Have you seen Thomas around?”

Ben shook his head, a sad smile on his face. “He’s not here. The note was from me.”

“Where is he then?” Newt didn’t even bother trying to hide his concern, and moved further into the room. If Ben had done something to Thomas, then Newt wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

Ben’s eyes widened as realisation dawned. “He’s okay! I haven’t hurt him. I get why you think I did, but I didn’t. I just wanted a chance to talk to you without him around.”

Despite himself, Newt relaxed. He knew that the smart thing to do would be to not believe Ben. There wasn’t anything stopping Ben from lying, and everything else about this situation pointed towards danger. But Ben seemed genuine, somehow. And Newt wanted to believe him. He wanted to believe that everything was okay, that no one had been hurt or was about to be hurt. He wanted to forget about the whole murder-game, just for a little while.

So he relaxed.

Ben visibly relaxed along with him.

“I’m sorry about how I acted yesterday.”

“Oh,” said Newt. “That’s okay! I figured that you were just having a bad day, or something.”

“I was,” said Ben. “But that doesn’t excuse my taking it out on you. It won’t happen again.”

Newt nodded in acknowledgement.

“You know, one of us will be gone soon.” Ben looked away from Newt, instead looking off somewhere to the side. “So. I guess I might as well be honest with you.”

“Ben, what are you-”

“I’m so tired,” Ben said, cutting off Newt’s question. “I’m constantly thinking about how I’d do things differently, if I could start all over again. Was there something else I could’ve done? Or would I just end up back in the same place as I am now? Is that something you think about too? Whether you could’ve done something different, and not ended up here?”

“...Not really?” said Newt. He wasn’t sure where Ben was going with this, but he really didn’t like the sound of it. “I didn’t choose to be here, but I know there’s nothing I could’ve done to change it.”

Ben smiled sadly. “Yeah, I guess that would be the case for you. I don’t think anyone would ever choose to be in your situation, no matter what their situation was. But me being here is my fault, and now there’s nothing I can do about it.” He sighed. “It was too late for a fresh start a long time ago.”

“No!” said Newt.

He knew now why what Ben was saying was freaking him out so much. Newt  _ had _ felt like that before. He’d felt exactly like that, like it was his own fault that everything had gone wrong, and that it was too late to fix it. And when he had, he’d been alone. He hadn’t had anyone that he could talk to or who could help him, and the end result had been the only injury he’d ever had that hadn’t healed completely. His entire life had been changed, and nearly ended, by that feeling of helplessness.

But Ben wasn’t alone.

“It’s never too late for a fresh start. If you want to walk away, then you absolutely can! People reinvent themselves and start again every single day, there’s no reason why you can’t be one of them.”

“You don’t get it!” snapped Ben. “I  _ can’t _ stop. There are people relying on me to keep doing this. If I stop, then there’s no one getting them what they need. They could  _ die, _ Newt. I don’t have a choice!”

“There’s always a choice,” said Newt. “I can help you, you don’t have to-”

“I don’t want pity!”

“It’s not pity! I want to help you!” Newt attempted a weak smile. “We’re friends, aren’t we? It doesn’t have to be like this.”

Ben looked down. “It means a lot that you think of me as a friend. Thank you. But it does have to be like this. I’m really sorry.”

He looked back up and held out a hand.

He was holding out a piece of card.

It was only as Newt reached out to take it that he realised how close he’d got to Ben over the course of their conversation.

  
  


Of course the school council meeting would get out just as he was going to the toilet. That was just Thomas’ luck. One second they were in there, meeting progressing at the same pace it had been for the last hour or so, and then not even five minutes later it had somehow ended and everyone had gone.

And now Thomas had no idea where Newt was, while Ben was almost certainly gearing up for an attack.

As he made his way back to the Glade building, he checked a few places, but there was no sign of Newt anywhere.

He tried telling himself that he was probably just a few minutes ahead, and he would catch up with him back at the dorms. But he didn’t entirely believe it.

The time that Ben had said was rapidly approaching, and Thomas was sure that it was a ploy to get him out of the way so that Ben could try to kill Newt unhindered. He needed to be at Newt’s side when that time came.

He reached the Glade, ran up the stairs, and slammed open the door to his and Newt’s room.

Which was empty.

Newt’s bag was on the floor next to his bed, so Newt had been here at some point. But he wasn’t anymore. He was gone.

He wasn’t in the room, he wasn’t in the bathroom.

Thomas knew that there was no way for Newt to know the danger he was going to be in tonight, but still, did Newt really have to pick tonight of all nights to go wandering off?

He left the room, and was halfway down the hall to the common room when he was stopped by Frypan, who was coming out of his own room.

“Main hall,” said Frypan. “He said you were there, which you clearly aren’t. I’d get there quick if I were you.”

“Thank you!” said Thomas over his shoulder as he ran back towards the stairs. “I owe you one!”

He ran in the direction of the main hall, not paying too much attention to the world around him as he did so. It would only distract him, and slow him down.

Of course, that backfired when he ran into a 12 year old.

He knocked them clean off their feet and they hit the ground hard.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asked, stopping and reaching down to help the kid stand back up.

The kid looked Thomas dead in the eyes. “Ow,” they said. “What’s the rush?”

“Are you okay?” repeated Thomas.

The kid sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” said Thomas. “Sorry for hitting you.”

He took off running again, this time letting himself pay a little more attention to what was going on around him.

He managed to make it to the main building without further incident, and reached the main hall without seeing anyone else around.

He burst into the room just in time to see Ben wrapping what looked like a piece of rope around Newt’s neck.

Thomas didn’t need to think about it. He ran over and punched Ben square in the jaw.

Ben staggered back, his hands coming up to his face and releasing his hold on Newt. Newt dropped to the floor, coughing, his own hands probing his neck.

“You were never gonna meet me, were you?” asked Ben, gingerly rubbing the side of his jaw.

“Neither were you,” said Thomas, purposefully stepping towards him.

Ben stepped backwards. “I meant a lot of what I said. This is the only way to free him completely.”

“What, nobody can keep trying to kill him if he’s already dead?” Thomas scoffed.

_ “He’s  _ still right here,” said Newt, shakily getting to his feet.

Ben lunged.

Thomas pushed Newt out of the way and went to punch Ben again. Ben ducked and aimed a fist at Thomas’ middle. Thomas felt all the breath rush out of him, but he couldn’t afford to wait for it to come back. He grabbed Ben’s arm and pulled it to the side, grabbed Ben’s shirt, and lurched forwards. Gravity sent them falling to the ground, Ben taking the brunt of it with Thomas on top.

Making Ben lose consciousness, or even killing him, from this position would’ve been child’s play.

But Thomas hesitated, and it was enough.

Ben threw him off and grabbed a nearby half painted plank of wood.

Thomas reached for one of his knives.

  
  


When Thomas had pushed him out of the way, Newt had got the fuck out of the way.

But watching the other two fight, while he stood off to the side, was awful.

They kept racking up minor hits and injuries on each other, and while Newt was glad that neither of them were getting seriously hurt, it also meant that they showed no sign of stopping any time soon. And the longer it went on, the more likely it was that someone  _ would  _ get seriously hurt.

Newt didn’t know why Thomas seemed to not want to hurt Ben too badly. At this point it had to be a conscious decision, he’d had at least three openings in which he could’ve ended the fight, but he’d never taken them. Newt was relieved about it, and also panicking about it, and didn’t think that now was the time to analyse exactly how these feelings could coexist.

Somehow, Thomas was able to get a good hold of Ben. He pushed him with what looked to be all his strength. Ben hit the wall and dropped to his hands and knees, wheezing in pain. Thomas staggered back a few steps, before sinking to his own knees. Ben was bleeding from a few shallow cuts in various places, and it looked as if some nasty bruises were already beginning to form on Thomas’ face. Newt shuddered to think about the state that the rest of him was probably also in.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” said Ben.

Thomas pushed himself back to his feet. “I think it is. You’re done. Go.”

Ben shook his head, and slowly stood. He winced in pain and brought a hand to his middle, steadying himself with his other hand on the wall that he’d just been thrown into.

Newt moved away from where he’d been standing at the side of the room and stood closer to Thomas. Thomas put a hand on Newt’s shoulder and leant on it, so Newt put an arm around Thomas so that he could support him properly.

“You can still walk away,” said Newt. “That never stopped being an option. And I’ll still help you. Whatever it is that made you enrol here, I want to help you.”

“Are you for real?” muttered Thomas.

Ben shook his head. He looked around the hall. “Oh,” he said. “We’ve damaged the set.”

“We all made that together,” said Newt. “We had fun!”

“Sorry,” said Ben, wincing. He started to shuffle along the wall. “I didn’t plan on breaking anything.”

“I know,” said Newt.

“What are you doing?” said Thomas.

Ben didn’t say anything. He just kept shuffling along the wall.

“You can still start over,” said Newt.

He wasn’t giving up on Ben. He’d decided a long time ago that giving up wasn’t something that he was prepared to do ever again.

“I can’t quit,” said Ben. “And even if I could, I’ll still never get away from it. It’ll always be there. No,” he said, quieter than before, as if he’d switched to talking to himself, but Newt could still hear him. “There’s only one way I can be free of it.”

He stopped shuffling along the wall.

He was at the point where a loose bit of wire was dangling down from the ceiling. Newt followed the wire up to see that it was connected to the new lighting that had been installed the week before. It was stage lighting, apparently, and would make the performances look better.

And it was designed to be removed once the performances were all done.

And there was a loose wire that nobody had paid much mind to until now.

Ben grabbed the wire.

Newt didn’t waste any more time. Ben was about to do something incredibly stupid, and was too far away for Newt to be able to stop him.

So he did all that he could do.

He shoved Thomas over towards where a large slab of freshly painted wood was leaning against a wall. He followed, pushed Thomas in the tiny gap between the wood and the wall, and squeezed in beside him.

Not even a moment after he was in, he heard a giant  _ CRASH,  _ and the wood that he’d hidden them under slammed down onto them.

Newt kept still until he was sure that all of the lights had finished falling.

“Tommy?”

Thomas groaned in response.

“Tommy, I’m gonna need your help pushing this up so we can get out. Do you think you can manage that.”

“I’m gonna sleep for a week.”

Newt laughed softly. “Once we’re out, you have my permission to do exactly that.”

Together, the boys pushed on the wood. Slowly, it moved up enough that they were able to slip out from under it.

There was metal and glass everywhere. All of the sets in the hall had been damaged by the lights falling, and any attempt to move through the room would require a careful combination of giant steps and little bit of climbing.

If it hadn’t been for that bit of wood they’d hidden under, then Newt and Thomas could’ve easily been killed.

Newt immediately began the task of crossing over to where Ben had been standing. He was dimly aware that Thomas was slowly following, but he didn’t pay him much mind. There was no question that Thomas was going to be okay. But Ben...

Ben had a jagged cut down the side of his head that was leaking blood. A metal pole had pushed its way through Ben’s side, pinning Ben in place and smearing blood around in a way that Newt wished that he didn’t have to look at. It was also obvious that Ben had multiple broken bones.

But even through all this, Ben was awake. He hadn’t lost consciousness.

Newt couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or not. Yes, Ben was alive. But he was also clearly in a lot of pain.

Ben coughed, and blood came out.

Newt crouched down next to him and pulled out his phone. “Don’t talk,” he said as he dialled 911.

“Why are you-?”

“What did I just say?” Newt said. “I don’t want anyone to die because of this,” he added, answering Ben’s unfinished question.

Ben coughed up more blood.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Newt shook his head. “It’s okay, I forgive you, you’re fine, just don’t try to talk.”

The call connected.

Thomas reached them, removed his jumper, and used it to put pressure on Ben’s head wound. Newt put the phone on speaker so that he could keep talking to the emergency services as he took his own off so that he could put pressure around where the metal pole was sticking out of him.

Hopefully the paramedics would get there soon.

  
  


Thomas didn’t know how to feel as they watched the ambulance drive away.

Ben was out of commission. He wasn’t going to be able to kill Newt before his time was up. Also, the police had been called to the school because of his actions. Whichever way you looked at it, Ben was out. He was no longer a threat.

But Thomas couldn’t bring himself to just look at it like that.

Newt hadn’t called the police, he’d called the paramedics. The cops had shown up because they needed to investigate how the lights had been able to come down like that. That shouldn’t have happened. It was a serious flaw in their installation, and the company that the school had hired were probably going to be criminally liable for all damages.

Including all of Ben’s medical costs.

Fuck, Ben could die. Could actually  _ die  _ because of what just happened.

But he’d have done it to himself.

With the help of a faulty light installation.

Thomas didn’t kill him. Or nearly kill him. Or get anywhere close to killing him. The paramedics had even praised his and Newt’s quick thinking when they saw them putting pressure on Ben’s wounds.

Thomas had gone from fighting Ben to trying to save his life.

Why? Because it what Newt would’ve wanted? Because he actually liked Ben as a person? Because he didn’t really want to be responsible for anyone’s death? All of the above?

Thomas looked to Newt, sat on the bench next to him.

He grasped onto the one thought that made sense to him.

“How are you like that?”

“Hm?” Newt looked towards Thomas.

“So forgiving. He tried to kill you, and brought the lights down in an attempt to kill you. All of that shit was to try and kill you! But you still forgave him instantly, you called for help, you said you’d help out with whatever it is that brought him here. How? If I were in your position, I’d never be able to do that.”

Newt closed his eyes. He turned his head back so that he was looking out towards the departing ambulance. “This world is cruel,” he said. “But I don’t want it to be. I can’t fix everything, I’m just one person. But I want to do what I can to make life even just a little bit better for those around me.” He shrugged. “Ben tried to kill himself just now, he wasn’t just going for me. He needed help. Needs it. Refusing to forgive or help him wouldn’t have done anyone any good.”

Thomas nodded. “Okay,” he said. “That makes sense.” He paused for a bit, then said, “Are you still gonna help him?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Okay. You think the cops are done with us?”

Newt nodded. “They’re not supposed to interfere directly with Class A, and they’ve already asked us about everything they need to go after that company.”

“Let’s head back then,” said Thomas. He braced himself and tried to stand.

It didn’t go very well. He got a few inches off the seat before falling back onto it.

Newt laughed, put an arm around him, and helped him stand. “You can lean on me,” he said.

“I’m gonna be sore as hell tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately,” said Newt. “Do we have anything frozen?”

“No, but I think the shop’s still open.”

“How does being covered in many bags of frozen peas sound?”

“It sounds heavenly.”

Newt smiled. “Let’s get you up to the room first.”

  
  


Vince was late.

A quick scan of the classroom told Minho that Newt was alive, Thomas looked rough, Ben was missing, and Gally was out of his mind with worry, though he was trying to hide it. Minho caught Newt’s eye and sent him a questioning look, silently asking what had happened. Out of all of them, Newt was the one who’d be most likely to answer him properly. But Newt just shook his head.

Everyone else must’ve noticed too, but they were all pretending that nothing was wrong. Aris was talking to Minho about a video game he liked, but Minho was too distracted to pay much attention. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, because he did! Aris’ recount of the game’s plot was filled with so much passion that it was obvious that he cared a great deal about it, and Minho wanted to learn about it too! But he couldn’t help but be distracted.

For all he knew, Ben could be dead.

Eventually, Aris’ attention was drawn to the classroom door, and he trailed off into silence.

Minho turned around to see that Vince had finally arrived.

Gradually, the voices of Minho’s classmates dropped away one by one as they noticed their teacher was in the room. Once it was silent, Vince walked to his desk and sat in his seat.

His usual smile was completely absent.

“I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,” he said. “I know that you’ve all been working really hard on the sets for your performance. I’m sorry to have to tell you that there was an incident in the hall last night. The stage lights weren’t installed properly, and they fell. A lot of the set-pieces and props were trapped beneath them, and were likely destroyed. I don’t know yet how much of what was destroyed belonged to you guys specifically, but it’s going to be a while before anyone’s allowed in to assess the damage. It’s been decided that the quality of props and sets aren’t going to be a factor in deciding the winner of this year’s performance competition, so don’t worry about that.

“But that brings me onto the more serious bit of bad news. You may have noticed that Ben isn’t here with us today.” Vince took a deep breath. “Unfortunately he was in the hall at the time of the incident, and he was badly hurt. He’s in the hospital. His doctors say that they’re doing all they can for him, but we don’t know yet if he’ll make it.” Vince shook his head. “Members of the senior staff were up all night debating what we should tell you, but I figured that you’d want to know the truth. There’s support available for anyone who needs it, and the school isn’t allowed to tell your parents if you decide to take us up on that.” He stood. “I’m not going to teach any classes today, so you're free to go.”

With that, he left.

There was a moment of silence. Gally stared down at his table, his hands clenched into fists.

“What the fuck happened?” asked Minho, breaking the silence and turning to face Thomas.

“He brought the lights down,” said Thomas. “They weren’t installed properly and he tried to use them to take us all out at once. We got lucky, he didn’t.”

“Had he given you his notice?” asked Teresa.

“Yeah,” said Newt.

Teresa nodded. “He’s out, then. He won’t recover in time to make the deadline.”

Newt looked like he wanted to say something in response to that, but couldn’t settle on what, so just stayed silent. Minho thought he knew what was going through Newt’s mind, and agreed.

Forget the deadline, Ben might not recover at  _ all. _ Yes, Teresa needed to know whether to disqualify Ben or not, but having that as her first and only priority struck Minho as insensitive.

Brenda looked over to Gally. “Welcome to the solo room club!” she said, with a jarring levity in her voice.

As Frypan softly said something that to Minho sounded like “Bren what the fuck?” Gally started to move.

Minho was overcome with certainty that a fight was about to break out because of Brenda’s thoughtless comment.

Before his brain could fully catch up to his actions, he was out of his chair and had put himself between Brenda and Gally, who was out of his seat with a fist raised. Minho put his hands up in surrender, but was ready to push Gally back and restrain him if he needed to. “Woah, take it easy.”

“Move.”

Minho shook his head. “How about we go outside? That sound good?” He slowly moved forwards and carefully placed a hand on Gally’s shoulder. Gally didn’t object. “Yeah, that sounds good, come on.” He tightened his grip on Gally just enough that he was able to guide him gently yet firmly out of the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Gally pulled himself out of Minho’s grip.

“She had  _ no right-” _

“I know.”

“He could be  _ dying  _ and she’s just like  _ ‘you have your own room!!’  _ well maybe I don’t fucking WANT my own room, and all anyone else cares about is if he’s still a threat, and I dunno but maybe he’s a  _ person  _ who deserves a little bit more fucking sympathy than-”

“I’m with you,” said Minho, cutting him off. “But throwing punches isn’t gonna get you anywhere. It’s not gonna help.”

“It’ll make me feel better.”

“Will it though?”

Gally glared at Minho, then shifted his glare to the classroom door. Nobody else had emerged, so Minho assumed that the glare was meant for someone on the inside.

“At least Ben managed to get some good hits in before Thomas brought the lights down on him.”

“That’s not what happened -”

“According to  _ Thomas,  _ that’s not what happened. He’s probably lying! I don’t give a shit about the competition, I’m gonna kill him for it.”

“If Thomas had brought the lights down on them all, he’d have risked killing Newt as well, or leaving him to have to deal with the rest of us on his own,” said Minho. “That doesn’t sound likely to me.”

Gally froze. “But...” He gulped, and when he spoke again he sounded very small. “But Ben wouldn’t do that. He  _ wouldn’t!” _

“People do all sorts of things when they’re desperate,” said Minho.

Without speaking any more, Minho walked with Gally across campus and back to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're feeling suicidal AT ALL then please seek help. you're not alone, and it's never too late to start the process of recovery. it's also never too early. it's not worth letting yourself get to that point, i promise

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated : D
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr!!](https://astralpenguin.tumblr.com/)


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